In Time I Will Catch You
by Firetoflame
Summary: Alice is buying apples for a pie she is never going to bake when she first sees the new English teacher, Miss Platt. When her visions of Carlisle's future begin to shift, she employs Emmett and a poorly written paper to help fate along. Though not everything is as simple as the fairy tales she's read. Ironically, sometimes the monsters aren't the vampires. AU/Human Esme
1. Chapter 1

Alice hummed thoughtfully as she investigated what looked to be an impeccably bright bag of apples. They were of the green variety, and though she could detect tiny imperfections in the slick skin, they smelled sweet, though decidedly tangy, especially in comparison to their red counterparts.

"Do you think these would go well in a pie?" she wondered.

Rosalie huffed, pushing the grocery cart closer. "Does it really matter? It's not as if we're actually going to bake with them."

"No," Alice agreed, "but it's fun to pretend." She tilted her head, spying Rosalie out of the corner of her eye. She wore a mask of beautiful indifference, though Alice could tell she was cracking.

"Your fascination with mundane human things never ceases to amaze me." She held her hand out for the bag and Alice skipped happily to her side.

She grinned wide, causing Rosalie to roll her eyes, but a tiny grin was starting at the corner of her mouth and Alice knew she'd won her ever stubborn sister over.

"These are too sour," Rosalie declared, inspecting the bag of granny smith apples. She inhaled deeply, that tiny grin becoming a smile and not for the first time Alice wished her gift let her see the past as much as it did the future.

"When I was a girl," Rosalie began, blinking as if clearing clouds from the memory, "there was a woman who lived with us. I think she used to cook; yes, Lettie was her name. She was old and looked like a strong wind might blow her over, but she made the most wonderful apple pie. Whenever I was upset I would sit in the kitchen with her. She never spoke much, but I liked watching her. And she used these." Rosalie snatched a package of dark red apples from the display. "Sweet and crisp."

Alice took the bag, placing it in the cart. She beamed at the memory that had been shared.

"Don't look at me like that."

"Like what?"

Rosalie ran her fingers through her thick blonde hair, pushing the waves over her shoulder and away from her face. Across the store men turned to gawk and Rosalie moved behind a stack of orange crates, out of their sight-line, to be less conspicuous. "Do you think Bella and Edward are done in the soup aisle yet?"

Alice shrugged, her vision going hazy for a moment as a glimpse of the future took its place. She bit her lip as the image fell away. "We should probably give them a few more minutes."

Rosalie made a retching sound behind her. "And people complain about me and Emmett."

"It is their anniversary." Alice began adding other various fruits and vegetables to the cart. She couldn't remember liking any of them from her human life, so instead she arranged them in an aesthetically pleasing grouping of colours.

"We don't need that many eggplants, Alice. And they could have very well stayed home to celebrate."

Alice put a couple of the purple vegetables back in the display rack. "You know Bella likes to help with the shopping. It reminds her of Charlie."

Rosalie bit back whatever sarcastic comment she was about to say. "Yes, well, all I'm saying is that we're supposed to be discreet. School is starting up again. People will want to know all about what the elusive Cullen's were up to all summer, besides making out in the canned food aisle."

"It was the cereal aisle, actually."

Rosalie rolled her eyes again as Edward appeared, one arm looped over Bella's shoulder, the other holding onto a basket full of non-perishables that would be destined for the local food pantry once they had gone through the weekly show of buying groceries. It was often a task Carlisle did, but since the hospital was rather busy in the summer months with elective surgeries and they were all off school, they had to find some productive way to keep up their appearances in town.

They'd been staying in Forks for a couple years now, and with the perpetually cloudy skies and a house set deep in the Olympic peninsula, Alice hoped they might be able to make a home here for a while. To see themselves through graduation and even a few years away at community college before Carlisle had to relocate and they all went their separate ways again.

She didn't like when the family was separated. It always felt too long even though they had forever. The Cullen's had been the only family she could remember having and though she and Jasper had been living with them for over five decades now, it sometimes felt like they had just met. She looked up suddenly, realizing her mind had been wandering.

Edward was gazing at her intently. He offered a sympathetic smile and in her head a vision appeared. They were sitting on the rocky overhang that sheltered the field where they liked to play baseball. Edward was smiling at her, preparing to race her to the field where the rest of the family awaited the approaching thunderstorm.

"Can you two stop," Rosalie huffed. "You know Bella and I are right here. You can speak out loud, you know."

"It's nothing," Edward murmured, "Alice just saw that baseball might be an option tonight."

Rosalie hummed, appeased by the news. "Emmett will be happy."

"And Carlisle will be off early,"Alice added, "so he'll be able to join us."

"The whole family," Edward said and Alice knew it was for her benefit. He grinned at her until Rosalie growled and pushed the cart between them.

"I hate when you two get like this. You're like an old married couple."

Bella sighed. "Let's go pay, people are starting to stare."

Alice followed Rosalie up to an open till. Edward and Bella crowded in behind her. Ahead of them was a young woman; well, not exactly young, early thirties perhaps. She leaned around Rosalie for a better view. Yes, the woman was about Carlisle's age. She had lovely caramel hair. It hung in loose waves to her shoulder blades, tucked behind her ears as she fiddled in her wallet for her debit card.

Her eyes were a dark, forest green, and her heart shaped face made Alice think of the princesses in those old Latin fairy-tales she had read from Carlisle's book collection.

"She's pretty," Alice whispered.

"Yes," Bella agreed. "I wonder who she is."

Rosalie paused as she loaded the belt with their purchases in order to regard the woman. She was dressed modestly in dark jeans and a navy sweater, though it was hard to deny she had a lovely figure. When Rosalie didn't immediately reject Alice's statement, she knew that even she couldn't really find a fault with the woman.

And the only reason they were so intrigued was because the sheer size of Forks meant that they knew of everyone in town. This woman was clearly new to the area. She smiled warmly at the young cashier as she accepted her receipt, then moved to the end of the till to start packing her groceries.

Alice looked expectantly back at Edward who was busying himself by arranging the food in a kind of tetris game on the till, until there was no available space left. "Well?" she prompted.

"I'm not sure yet. She's thinking about the high school and the reading list."

"Maybe she's a teacher," Bella offered. "Mrs. Dower was due to go off on maternity leave. Perhaps she's filling in as the English substitute."

"I guess we'll find out on Monday," Rosalie said as the cashier began ringing through their groceries.

The woman looked up at them suddenly, almost as if sensing their prying eyes, but instead of staring at them in startled shock like so many people do when confronted with vampires, she simply offered them that same warm smile she'd given to the cashier.

Then she gathered her bags and walked away.

Edward stared after her.

"What is it?" Bella wondered.

"Her thoughts . . . they're . . ." he struggled to find a way to describe it. "They're soft. And gentle in a way I'm not used to hearing in humans. It sort of reminds me of—"

"Who?"

Edward shrugged. "Like Carlisle I guess."

"Speaking of Carlisle," Rosalie said as she handed over her credit card to pay. She held her phone out to Alice. There was a text message with a photo attached. It told them to hurry home before Emmett started using the squirrels as batting practice. It also showed a dozen new baseball bats sitting on the kitchen table.

"Guess baseball _is_ happening," Bella said.

And as they left the store, the sky darkened, and in the distance they could hear the thunder rolling in like a low hum on the edge of the grey horizon.


	2. Chapter 2

Esme hauled her groceries up the two flights of stairs to the little walk-up apartment at the end of the hall. It was on the back of the building so it had a lovely view of the treeline that started just steps away from the apartment's parking garage, filling her entire view with lush trees and patches of bluish grey sky.

She turned the key and pushed the door open with her foot, dropping everything in the doorway.

The kitchen opened right off the front hall so it was rather convenient, but instead of putting things away, she touched the door knob twice, making sure it was locked—a habit that would take a long time to break—and pulled her cellphone out of her pocket.

She'd gotten a new one as soon as she'd moved at the beginning of the week.

There were only three numbers programmed into it so far.

The first belonged to her best friend Sarah. They'd grown up in Columbus together and even after Sarah and her husband had moved to Tampa, they'd remained as close as any two people could be. Esme had been there for the birth of both Sarah's children, who now affectionately called her Auntie, and even when Sarah had buried her childhood dog Archie—the same lab that Esme remembered growing up with as she and Sarah spent long afternoons climbing trees and racing their bikes through the wheat fields near her grandparents farm.

The second was her mother's number. She never had an overly warm relationship with her mother, it was really her grandparents that had raised her, which was probably partly why Esme had yet to make that phone call. It was on her to-do list, but maybe something she would tackle tomorrow. Or at the end of the week. Or never.

The last number was for the main office at Forks High School, where she'd be starting work on Monday, filling in as a temporary full-time staff member for the English teacher who was off on maternity leave.

Esme hovered her thumb over her mother's number before skipping up and hitting Sarah's. It rang twice.

"Hey, it's just me again. Thought I'd check in."

Sarah's chipper voice came through, along with the baby babble of her nine month old daughter Kayla, who sounded like she was splashing around in the bathtub. "How's the place looking?"

Esme plopped down on the small grey sofa—her only living room furniture thus far—and considered the curtain-less windows. "It needs some work."

"Well, you always did like a project."

"I did," she sighed. "No, I do. You're right."

"Now that sounds like the old Esme."

Esme let out a little huff of breath that ended in a smile as she began to daydream about paint colours and matching accent pillows and maybe some pretty art for the big empty wall behind her.

"How are you though?" Sarah asked. "Really?"

Esme let that one linger. How was she? She could breathe again, that's for sure. For the first time in years she didn't feel trapped or alone or frightened.

Sarah began to make nervous noises on the other end of the phone. "You took this job out of nowhere, Es. I know you were looking at leaving him, I just thought there'd be more warning, or that you'd ask for help. You know you could have come and stayed with me and Alex. The kids love you. They miss you. _I_ miss you."

Esme smiled against the phone. "I miss you guys too."

"And you're still set on not telling me where you are?"

"Yes," Esme said. It was the one thing she was certain of in all of this. "I don't want to leave any trails. You know what Charles is like. Until I can sort through all of this and figure out how to be rid of him for good, I can't."

"You'd think the divorce papers would have been enough?"

Esme chuckled, though it wasn't funny. "It'll work out somehow," she said. "Just know that I'm safe. I'm in a little town full of people who _aren't_ him. I rented a tiny little apartment. I'm going to paint it next week and buy some curtains. And I'm going to start teaching again, so I'm happy. Happier than I've been in a long time."

"Alright, Es. Call me on Monday after school and tell me everything. Promise?"

"Promise. Give the kids a kiss from me, okay? And say hi to Alex."

"Will do. Talk to you later."

Esme hung up the phone, put her music app on shuffle, and left it on the kitchen counter as she worked. She lifted the grocery bags onto the small counter by the fridge and began unpacking. She'd been living off mostly cereal, milk, and coffee for the past couple days as she got settled into the apartment.

She had been so busy going back and forth to the high school to fill out paperwork and start planning her lessons that food was the last thing on her mind. The regular English teacher had left her a tentative schedule and the reading list, so Esme had also been up to Port Angeles to pick up the few books she didn't already own. She'd been skimming through some of Shakespeare again to make notes and highlight important points in the text. It'd been a while since she'd been in a classroom and even longer since she'd been in teacher's college, studying the material, but now she felt prepared enough to get through the first week until she found her footing and was able to gauge the academic level of the students in her classes.

Seeing as she'd had some time to spare, she'd finally gotten around to doing a proper grocery shopping. Forks wasn't the most bustling town, but it had the basics and you really couldn't beat the view of the sun setting through the trees. Esme still marvelled at how green and alive everything was—the trees, the flowers, even the earth shimmered with it—almost like she'd stepped into a fantasy world. Maybe this move would turn out to be a very good thing. Some time away, to clear her head. To start fresh. It would help.

She climbed onto the bar stool next to the counter and plucked an apple from the fruit bowl she'd put beside the toaster. It was honey sweet and just the right kind of crisp as she bit down on the flesh. After living on cereal for the better part of a week it was a welcomed change. As she ate, she opened up her laptop to check her emails, returning a few to her new colleagues and some overly eager parents who were part of the PTA.

She left the email from her lawyer unread. She knew there was work to do there, but she wanted to start the week out on a good note, one that did not include dealing with Charles. She'd let herself worry about that next weekend. Instead, she logged onto the school portal and opened up the roster of her students this semester and began looking over their grades and the comments left by previous teachers.

For the most part they seemed like your average teenagers: some excelled, some struggled, some needed to talk less in class, some more. Others needed to actually come to class. It wasn't until a common name started appearing in her roster that she paused. Cullen. There were four of them. Alice, Edward, and Bella were juniors. Emmett would be in her senior classes. Another name was associated with their files and she soon opened up the files of Rosalie and Jasper Hale. They would also be in her senior classes. She studied their photos. Each of them were desperately pale, with similar golden eyes and striking features.

When she studied them closer she recognized a couple of faces from the store earlier. She hadn't spoken to them, but the little one—Alice—and the one with the long brown hair—Bella—they had smiled back at her. They seemed friendly enough. She wondered what their story was but resolved to leave the rest of her wondering until Monday when she could actually meet her students. She didn't want to get ahead of herself, not when everything was just starting to work out.

So instead she opened a link for the local hardware store and started deciding on a paint colour. One that would match the pretty mauve curtains she'd seen in a store front yesterday.


	3. Chapter 3

Esme woke around 5:30 Monday morning. It was a half hour before her alarm but she was nervous and excited, both of which prevented her from being able to fall back asleep.

So instead she got up, showered, and tip-toed around her apartment in her dressing gown with a cup of coffee as she waited for her hair to dry enough to use the curling iron on it. After breakfast she brushed her teeth, did her hair, touched up her make-up and then got dressed. Her blouse was purple and she tucked it into a soft black pencil skirt that stopped just shy of her knees.

She dug in the back of her closet for her favourite black heels. They were comfortable and well worn, perfect for being on her feet for most of the day.

When she had packed and double checked that she had everything, Esme made her way downstairs and started her car. She put the radio on as she drove, letting the music clear her mind. The nerves had vanished somewhat, replaced by a giddy anxiousness.

She remembered being just as excited for her first day of high school as a girl. She supposed some things never changed, no matter how old you were.

When she entered the staff room that morning it was packed. The Principal wanted to have a group meeting just before they all headed off to their morning classes. Esme put her stuff in a locker and joined the other teachers.

A slim, blonde woman in a black track suit turned her head and held out a hand. "Tammi Flynn. Phys Ed. I don't think we've met yet."

Esme reached for her hand. "Esme Platt. English."

"Ah, you're Connie's replacement. I wondered when they'd get around to filling the position. Most of the staff are lifers here. Nobody wants to move to little old Forks to teach."

"Except you, obviously." A young man stood on her other side. "Jeremy Daniels," he said, also offering his hand. "Have you been by your classroom yet?"

"Last week, during prep."

"Well I'm just across the hall. If you need anything just knock."

Esme saw Tammi roll her eyes on her other side. "Or you can always come visit me in the gym. Phys Ed teachers tend to be the favourite. No essays. And I've known most of these kids since they were in diapers, so they tend to listen when I tell them things. You run into issues just threaten them with a visit from Coach Flynn."

"Good to know," Esme said.

Tammi nodded as the Principal arrived, greeting them all before she got to the point. Ms. Halliday was a no-nonsense kind of woman with trim brown hair, neat square rimmed glasses, and a voice that could travel across a room with ease. She reminded them all of the mandatory extra-curricular activities that they had to volunteer for, explained the new late student policy, and wished them all luck with their first day. It was easy to see how she'd found herself in the position of Principal. Esme herself thought she was too soft-hearted for that kind of work, but looked forward to working with the woman.

She said goodbye to Tammi and when she'd retrieved her bag, walked with Jeremy to the South wing of the school which housed English, History, and the language departments.

"Well, I'll see you at lunch," Jeremy said. He waved, moving to stand in the doorway of his classroom.

Esme opted just to stand at the front of her room and quietly unpack her bag as the students filed in. Maybe when she'd been here a few weeks she'd feel more comfortable greeting them at the door. For now she'd just be glad if they managed to stay awake for the lesson.

She opened her laptop and hooked it up to the overhead projector just as the last of the students filed in. They'd lingered in the hall with friends until the warning bell rang, and she could already see a few of them blinking the sleep out of their eyes. The first week back at school after summer holidays was always an adjustment.

She glanced around at the group of seniors, spying the blonde girl from the grocery store at the back of the class—Rosalie. Beside her sat Jasper, who she guessed was Rosalie's twin considering they were in the same year, and the burly Cullen boy Emmett. He had an easy, wide smile on his face as he lounged in his chair.

Esme took a deep breath as the final bell rang and the class fell silent.

She started with a smile, picked up the clicker for the projector, and stepped to the side of the screen before starting the slideshow.

She kept her introductions quick, welcomed them all to their last ever high school English class, and then made a quick rundown of the semester, course expectations, and handed out the reading list.

Some of the kids grumbled, others yawned, and a few smiled and bumped fists, obviously familiar with the books.

Esme walked around the room as she spoke, familiarizing herself with faces and names as kids answered questions over the course of the class. As the morning went on, the class grew more animated. They shared their summer stories, some of which Esme had to edit to stay school appropriate, which the kids got a kick out of. Esme talked about post-secondary opportunities for any of the kids that might want to pursue English. She balanced the slide show with the lesson plan Mrs. Dower had left her with videos and memes that kept the kids entertained. She firmly believed that learning should be fun and that using different mediums allowed kids with different learning styles to remain engaged.

When the bell rang and the class filed out, they were chatting happily and some even shouted that they would see her tomorrow as they disappeared down the hall.

In that quiet moment, before the next class arrived, she let out a breath. One class done, rather successfully she thought. Three to go.

The next class—another group of seniors—came and went much the same.

* * *

At lunch Alice herded the family to their usual table in the back of the cafeteria. They sat with the same assortment of greasy, stale food products on their trays and pretended to eat. Jasper and Emmett sat at opposite ends of the table, partaking in a stealthy french fry war that ended when one of the fries grazed Rosalie's hair and she threatened to dismember them.

"So," Alice wondered, "how was the new English teacher? We don't have her until next period."

Emmett shrugged. "She's real nice. Like genuine nice. Like the kind of teacher that would write you a reference letter to get you into Harvard even if your grades were shit."

Rosalie smirked. "You aiming for Harvard this time, babe?"

"I don't know. Does the sounds of an ivy league man turn you on?"

Rosalie flicked a grape across the table at him. "I think she's smart. Much smarter than a high school English teacher."

Edward snickered.

"What?"

"Since when do you bestow compliments on humans?"

Bella nudged him with her foot and it moved his chair slightly. "Be nice."

"I'll give her that though," Jasper said. "She genuinely cares about helping the students, and she wasn't boring like Mrs. Dower."

"And she's not bad looking, as far as teachers go," Emmett added. "Ow, babe, my arm! I mean objectively speaking, if I was a hormonal teenage boy." Rosalie huffed and crossed her arms, looking out the window to the dandelion covered fields. Emmett smirked and made a wavy hourglass shape with his hands.

Both Edward and Bella whacked him that time and Jasper chuckled.

"Well, I saw her this morning and I do like the way she dresses," Alice said. "She might be the most fashion conscious—" Her voice faded out and the din of the cafeteria drifted into the distance as a vision of Carlisle materialized. He was walking through a meadow, the sun bright above. Tiny diamonds reflected in his skin. When he stepped out of the way she could see a woman. He held his hand out to her and Alice gasped as she realized it was Miss Platt. And where there should have been fear, there was only awe and warmth and smiles as Carlisle pulled her into his arms and pressed his lips against hers.

The vision cracked into pieces and fell away, throwing Alice back into the bustle of the cafeteria. Her family looked at her, concern etched into their features, all except Edward, who just gaped.

"No," he said.

"Yes," Alice squealed. She clapped her hands together.

"No," Edward repeated, disbelief in his voice.

"What?" Bella asked. "What did you see, Alice?"

Edward shook his head. "I don't believe it."

"What?" Emmett demanded.

Rosalie inspected her cuticles, but her eyes cut across the table, annoyed.

"It was clear, Edward. As clear as any of ours."

"For the love of God, what was it?" Emmett barked.

Alice looked at him, her smile glowing. "Carlisle and Miss Platt, they were together."

"Like together as in romantically or—"

"Definitely romantically," Alice sighed.

"Well, hot damn, good for Carlisle."

"This is huge," Alice said. "Do we tell him? Should we?"

"Absolutely not," Rosalie said. "If you tell him before he can meet her, you'll spook him and he might make a decision that changes everything. Just let it happen, Alice."

"But—"

Bella took her hand between both of hers. "Alice, I know this is asking a lot of you, but for once in your life, can you please be patient."

Alice grumbled as she sat back in her chair, causing Jasper to press a kiss to the side of her head. "Fine, but I'm not going to like it." She grabbed Bella's hand again. "C'mon. I want to be early for class. It's time to meet our future . . . I don't know what, but she's going to love Carlisle and that means we're going to love her back. So it's time to do some research."

Edward made a face but waved to the others as they headed off to class.

* * *

After lunch was Esme's class with her first set of juniors and this time she recognized the rest of the Cullen's, sitting in the back corner of the room. Alice and Bella took a pair of desks together, with Edward right behind them.

Her lecture was similar to the morning, though a little less serious seeing as they still had a couple years before thinking about graduation. They talked about the reading list, and though the Cullen's didn't necessarily seem bored, Esme had the distinct impression that if she were to ask any of them a question from the current reading list they'd all be able to answer. She'd read that they were all in advanced streams before leaving their last school in Alaska, so she made a mental note to find better ways to engage them.

She even considered contacting her old professor at Columbus University. She knew there were bridging programs that gave high school students an opportunity to sit in on university classes, so she might be able to arrange an online course for credit if the Cullen's wanted to give it a try.

She looked over to find Edward smiling at her.

She returned it for a moment. After getting side tracked with that thought, Esme handed out copies of Macbeth to the class. Though they groaned about starting with Shakespeare, Esme began the unit talking about the supernatural elements in Macbeth, showing the kids the history of the stage play and the superstitions surrounding its performance.

That got their attention and she hoped it would keep them engaged enough as they started studying the rest of the play.

When that class ended and fourth period began, Esme was almost sad to think her first day was coming to an end. She watched the last class file out with the final bell and repacked her bag. There was no marking to do as of yet, but she stopped by the staff room on her way out to check her mail box. There were first day notices for staff printed on bright paper and folded into thin slits to fit in the tiny cubicles.

She passed Tammi on her way to the parking lot and she wished her a goodnight. In the pile of mail from the staff room was also a note from Jeremy telling her that he hoped her first day was a success. Esme found herself smiling as she drove through town.

She was in such a good mood that when she passed that eclectic little furniture shop she pulled over and went inside to purchase the curtains she had seen as well as a few accent pillows and a throw blanket for the sofa.

By the time she got home, hung the curtains, and made dinner it was well past six. She puttered around the apartment, doing the dishes and prepping her lunch for the next day. Finally at seven, when she knew bath time and dinner would both be over, she decided to give Sarah a call.

When Sarah answered it was accompanied by a wailing child. "One second," Sarah said. There was a scuffling sound. "Say hi to Auntie Es, Kayla."

"Does someone not want to go to bed?" Esme asked, her voice growing softer, more musical, as she talked to the screaming toddler. There were a few babbles and some hiccups on the other end of the phone.

"I'm just putting her down now," Sarah said. "She didn't nap today, so she's being a complete fuss."

Esme stayed on the line while Sarah read one of the primary books that sat on the shelf in Kayla's room. Esme knew some of them by heart now. When the story was done and the kid was asleep, Sarah let out a sigh of relief into the phone. "Give me one second, I'm going downstairs to pour myself a glass of wine."

"Is Alex working nights?"

"Yes, I hate this two week rotation. He gets to leave just before bedtime starts. I swear Es, I don't have enough hands. Today I was at the grocery store with the terrible two while Alex was sleeping. In the time it took me to grab dish soap from the shelf, Connor had pulled down one of those massive displays of toilet paper. I mean like it was an avalanche, Es. And he was buried. I thought he might have suffocated before I got to him. When I dug that kid out, I turned around to find Kayla with both hands down her diaper. Then she does this ta-da thing, pulling them out all fudgy. I swear I almost lost my mind. People were staring. I started sweating."

Esme laughed into the phone, full and loud and deep. The kind of laugh that hurt your abs.

"It's not funny," Sarah insisted. "I swear I'm going to pack them into a FedEx box and ship them your way for a while."

"I'll have to come visit over Christmas."

"It's not soon enough."

"I know," Esme agreed. "It never is."

"Okay, wine is secured. I'm sitting down for the first time today. The kids are quiet. So, tell me how it was, quickly, before they wake up!"

"Amazing," Esme gushed, flopping down on her bed. The sheets were new and the comforter was a dark grey and everything still smelled like fabric softener. She stretched happily, reveling in the softness.

"You missed it, didn't you?"

"More than I realized."

"Being around kids again will be good for you. Heck, being around functional adults will be a nice change."

"I'll say."

"So, meet any hot teachers?"

"Sarah! Honestly."

"What? Just because of the Charles drama doesn't mean you can't appreciate a decent guy, Esme."

"I know, it just feels weird. I've taken the ring off. I've left. I've sent the divorce papers. And he's still there, in the back of my mind. I don't even know how I would begin to explain him to someone new." She took a deep, shuddering breath. "I'm not even sure I can."

"He didn't deserve you, Esme. And he doesn't get to rule your life now. Besides, who said it had to be anything serious. You can window shop, browse. You're a free woman as far as I'm concerned."

Esme grinned against the phone. Sarah was right.

"Besides, I have to live vicariously through your sex life now because hell if Alex and I are having any."

"Why not?"

"Cause he wants another kid. I think we can barely handle the two we have and we had Kayla without even trying. In fact, we were actively trying to prevent it as I recall. But she's here and I love her, but I don't want any other surprises."

Esme snorted.

"Okay, so tell me about your classes. How are the kids? Were they nice? Did they put thumbtacks on your chair?"

"You've been watching too many movies."

"That's what happens when you have two children under five. If I have to listen to another animated movie about a singing frog I'm going to lose my mind."

"Well, I hear there's a new one with a talking snowman."

"Oh, perfect, just what I need."

Esme ended the call around nine. She still had to shower and knowing the kids, Sarah would probably only get a couple hours before one of them was up.

She used the new lavender scented shampoo and soap she'd bought from the herbal store on her way home from work. It had hints of vanilla in it and by the time she was finished, had packed her lunch, and prepped her classes for tomorrow, she was thoroughly ready for bed.

She was asleep as soon as she hit the pillow.


	4. Chapter 4

Over the next couple months, Esme found herself settling into life in Forks. She joined the yoga class at the small, family-owned gym in town, she'd befriend several colleagues who invited her out to the local pub for drinks and pool on Saturday nights, and she'd finally gotten around to painting her apartment and ordering some more furniture in between stints of marking.

She'd even taken a side tutoring job on Thursday nights down at the La Push reservation. Billy Black, the man who had helped her secure a used car during her first week in Forks, had mentioned that his son was struggling in English. Now she had a weekly study group with Jacob Black and a couple of his friends. Billy hoped that with her help, Jacob would be able to pull his grades up. And she certainly agreed to give it her best shot.

Her job was demanding. Keeping up with her classes, attending the social functions at the school, and even stepping in as temporary girls volleyball coach for Tammi when she went on vacation, occupied most of her time, but she loved it. Except for the back and forth emails with the lawyer, Esme found that she had very little time to devote to thinking about Charles. And she was so tired at night that the nightmares that usually plagued her had almost vanished.

Winter had come early to Forks, dusting the ground by the end of October, and although the last snowfall had melted relatively quickly, the cold weather remained into the first weeks of November, coating the ground in slick patches of ice more often then not.

Esme made her way carefully back to work that afternoon, turning into the parking lot. She had forgotten her lesson plans for the junior classes and had rushed home during lunch to retrieve them, returning just before the bell. She grabbed her travel mug from the center console of the car and took a sip of her coffee.

Across the the lot, she could see where the Cullen's had parked. In her short time here she'd learned that most of the students had something of car envy when it came to the Cullen's. Supposedly there was a red convertible that had yet to make an appearance in the time she'd been here, but it was apparently an exciting day when that turned up. Truthfully, Esme knew very little abut cars, nor did she care for them much, other than to know that it was a safe vehicle that could take her from point A to point B.

That was something that drove Jacob mad, seeing as he could rhyme off the supposed Cullen car collection by heart, along with the horsepower and any detail work that had been done just by looking at them. The boy may have needed English help, but he certainly knew his cars.

Esme smiled to herself, watching as a couple students hurried up the steps ahead of the lunch bell. She reached across to the passenger seat to grab her bag, then popped open the door. As she stepped outside, the chilly winter air ate right through her stocking covered legs. She hurried to lock the car and crossed in front of the gym towards the nearest entrance.

Something appeared in her peripheral, on the edge of the treeline across the field, and as she turned slightly to see Jasper and Emmett come into view impossibly fast, she felt her feet give out from under her. The world turned to grey as she looked towards the sky and she felt the shuddering thunk as her back hit the ice. Then things went a bit fuzzy . . .

* * *

As Alice took her seat next to Bella, she noticed that Miss Platt was not standing in her usual spot at the front of the room but instead it was Mr. VanBuelen, the Vice Principal. He had a round, stout little body and a bristly kind of moustache, but was a usually cheery kind of man who Alice always imagined would make a wonderful kind of grandfather.

"Where's Miss Platt?" Bella wondered, leaning back towards Edward's desk.

"She fell," Edward said, staring at the Vice Principal. "On some ice, crossing in front of the gym. They think she hit her head so they've taken her to Forks General."

"This is perfect," Alice declared.

"I don't see how," Bella said, looking concerned opposed to frightfully excited.

Alice huffed. "Esme's on her way to the hospital. Carlisle works at the hospital. Honestly, Bella, have a little faith in fate."

Edward smirked.

"What?" Alice asked.

"Nothing."

"Oh not you too."

"Don't you know by now that I never bet against you?" He reached over and squeezed Bella's hand.

A quiet murmur had picked up in the class as the Vice Principal greeted one of the students who rolled in the AV equipment. Apparently they were watching a movie today. Alice sighed. "Well at least one of you knows better."

She looked over her shoulder at Edward, watching his brow furrow.

"What is it?" Bella whispered.

"Emmett's just outside. He thinks Miss Platt might have seen him and Jasper returning from hunting. They were coming out of the woods just before lunch ended and didn't slow down early enough. She turned so quickly to look at them, that she slipped."

"Oh dear," Bella said.

Edward stood. "I need to go to the hospital. To see if I can figure out what she thinks she saw. And to talk to Carlisle."

"Go," Alice said. "We'll cover for you."

* * *

Carlisle Cullen pulled the heavy chart belonging to Mr. Hudson from the shelf and sat at the nursing station to write his assessment note and a series of orders for the nursing staff to implement. The patient was a frequent flyer in the emergency department and had amassed quite the file over the years. And although a larger hospital might have all these records stored electronically, Forks had yet to enter the digital age. Where another doctor might struggle to make sense of the piles of tiny printed script, Carlisle had deduced a diagnosis before even entering the patient's room.

Today Mr. Hudson was in for what he described as an excruciating pain in his lower stomach which he was convinced was his appendix promptly exploding, to which he urged Carlisle to do emergency surgery. Carlisle on the other hand was quite sure it was simply kidney stones since the pain seemed to radiate to the man's back. He also had a history of dehydration and a high salt diet which made him high risk for stone development, so Carlisle was fairly confident in his diagnosis.

He scribbled his findings into the chart and signed the bottom before flagging down the lead nurse.

"Colleen," he said. "About Mr. Hudson—"

"Yes, doc, he'll be back in a few days," she said with an eye roll.

Carlisle smiled. The woman was in her late fifties, with greying brown hair and light blue eyes. She had a sharp wit and intelligence gleamed from years of experience as a trauma nurse. Carlisle found her to be one of the more tolerable nurses—at least he could count on her to listen to his instructions without going glassy-eyed. "Start an IV and hang a normal saline drip to re-hydrate him. I think it's just kidney stones. We'll see if he passes them on his own. I've ordered some toradol for the pain and some tamsulosin if he can't pass them."

"So we're admitting him?"

"For a while at least."

"Alrighty doc, but don't say I didn't warn you." As she said it the call light went off for Mr. Hudson's room and the phone started ringing on the desk. Colleen picked it up and slammed it down. "I'm coming Mr. Hudson!" She turned back to Carlisle with a thin smile. "You better hope these stones pass quickly."

As she hobbled away Carlisle turned towards the admitting bay at the sound of ambulance tires scratching against the gravel. The sirens weren't running, so it wasn't emergent, but anyone brought in by ambulance still garnered immediate attention.

Carlisle greeted the first paramedic as the bay door swung open. "Hey Isaac, what do we have?"

"Afternoon doc." He handed Carlisle a clipboard of information. "Esme Anne Platt. English teacher over at the high school—"

"I thought Mrs. Dower taught English?"

"She does. She's off on maternity leave. Miss Platt is filling in."

So this was the new teacher the kids had been talking about. Carlisle took a look at her vitals. "She had a fall?"

"Slipped on some ice outside of the gym. Office called us. Looks like she might have bumped her head. She insisted she was fine. It took a lot to get her in the ambulance, doc, honestly, but her vitals are stable. Minor dizziness upon standing, complaints of a headache, but no confusion or nausea yet. Real sweet lady; I think she's just embarrassed, so take good care of her."

Carlisle nodded. "Put her in bay 2. I want to do a neuro and maybe an x-ray just to make sure nothing is broken."

"You got it, doc."

Carlisle peeled off towards the nursing station again, gathering supplies. He found a neuro-vitals sheet and put a penlight in the pocket of his lab coat. Then he found his way over to bay 2 and stepped behind the curtain Isaac had pulled around the bed.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Cullen, I'm going to be looking after you—"

Carlisle felt the words stutter around his mouth as he took in the woman before him. The reaction was so unusual, so visceral, that he swallowed the venom that pooled in his mouth. For the first time in many years he was acutely aware of the scent of her blood. It was sweet in a way he hadn't experienced before, more so than any blood he'd ever smelled. For a brief moment he had to consciously pull on his legendary self control. It was such a shocking feeling that he found himself pulling over the small, hard-backed chair and sitting down by her bedside.

"Doctor?" the woman said.

He nodded, plastering a smile onto his face. He noted her brief inhale, her sweet floral scent, the uneven stutter of her pulse. "My apologies," he said. "Now Miss Platt—"

"Just Esme is fine."

"Esme," Carlisle said. It was a lovely name, unique and old world. "The paramedics said you had a fall. Is that correct?"

"It was nothing really, I slipped on some ice. I'm fine, doctor. This is all a bit much."

"Well, you're here now. No harm in letting me examine you, is there?" He offered her a gentle smile.

When she returned it, he felt as though his still heart might thump to life. She really was lovely, with hair the colour of fresh caramel and expressive green eyes. Carlisle suddenly found himself contemplating an attraction he thought long dead and just as quickly as it started, he pushed it away, focusing on the facts again.

"I suppose not."

"Wonderful." Carlisle pulled his pen from his pocket. "Now, can you tell me your full name?"

Esme raised a narrow brow and Carlisle chuckled. "I haven't forgotten, it's merely part of the assessment, so humour me, please?"

She gave him a good natured eye roll. "Esme Anne Ev—Platt."

Carlisle noted the minute hesitation in her voice, though doubted it was evident of a concussion. "And can you tell me where you are?"

"Forks General Hospital, currently sitting in emerge." She turned to the look at the numbered sign on the wall. "Bed B-2."

Carlisle smirked. "Point taken, you're alert and oriented."

He pulled the penlight from his pocket. "May I?"

Esme nodded.

He stood from the chair and moved to the edge of her bed. He pointed the light in her eyes, watching her pupils dilate. There were small flecks of gold in her eyes and he moved away before he lost track of what he was doing. He made a small notation on the neuro-vitals sheet.

"No concerns there," Carlisle said. He reached up towards the back of her head, hesitating slightly until Esme tipped forward, giving her consent for him to exam the back of her head.

He heard the sharp inhale as he prodded a tender spot and watched her hands clench. "How much does that hurt?"

Esme sighed.

"You know," Carlisle said, sitting down in the chair again. "This would go faster if you'd stop insisting you were fine."

"It's a little bump. So it's sore. I'll be fine."

"Scale of 1 to 10. 1 is no pain, 10 is the worst imaginable. How sore?"

"A 4 I guess. Maybe 5. I just need some Tylenol, doctor, which I can buy at the pharmacy. I'm sure you have more urgent patients."

Carlisle made a note on his paper. "Any dizziness?" He waited for her to try and deny it, though considering she'd already told the paramedics she'd have difficulty convincing him otherwise.

"Some," she admitted, "if I stand up too quickly. And—"

"Yes?"

She shook her head, letting her eyes fall closed, almost like she was debating whether or not she was going to tell him. But she winced at the movement and that seemed to convince her. "I'm nauseous. But it just started in the last few minutes."

"I see." Carlisle made another note. "Did you lose consciousness when you fell?"

Esme rested her head against her fingertips, "Yes, I—maybe for a moment."

"Okay, Esme, I suspect you have a concussion, so—"

"Really?"

"Yes, but with some rest, fluids, and something for your pain you should be back to work within the week."

"A week?" Esme said, sitting up so quickly her vision spun.

Carlisle reached out to steady her. "It's important that you not return to strenuous activity too quickly. And that's anything that overstimulates your mind. Limit screen time. Take a couple days off reading and marking. Reintroduce it slowly, when the symptoms are gone."

"So what am I supposed to do all day?"

"Rest," Carlisle said. "I'd like to keep you at least one day for observation. And to do an x-ray and make sure there are no skull fractures. I'm confident there's nothing to worry about, but I'd rather be safe."

Esme looked at him pleadingly.

"Is there someone I can call for you? Family? Friends?"

"No," Esme said quickly. "It's fine." She stared off for a moment, seemingly lost in thought. "Cullen," she murmured.

"What's that?"

"You don't happen to have children do you?"

Carlisle forced a wince, the kind a tired parent might. "I hope they haven't been causing you trouble?"

"Oh, no. Quite the opposite. They've been lovely."

"I'm glad to hear it. I'm afraid, with my work, that I'm not home as much as they might need, so it's nice to know they've made a good impression."

Esme regarded him.

"What is it?" he wondered, drawn in by the contemplative look on her face.

"It's just, you're so fair. Do the kids look more like your wife?"

"Ah," Carlisle said, understanding. It was a story he'd grown used to telling over the years. People were always curious about their family, and it appeared the newest addition to the town was no exception. Though his first thought was not of clarifying that, but of assuring Esme that he was indeed not married. He wasn't sure why this had become his top priority, but something inside him was urging him to explain that he was single.

"I'm not married, actually," Carlisle said, wiggling his hand for good measure.

"Oh," Esme said, a small line appearing between her brows.

Immediately Carlisle wanted to smooth the line away and he wondered what she was thinking. "I adopted them," he explained. "Rosalie and Jasper, however, whom I'm sure you've also met, belonged to my sister. When she passed it only made sense to take them in."

"Well that's quite the family," Esme said. "You're all very lucky to have each other."

And just like that Carlisle was amazed by her. There were no probing questions, no up and down once overs; just a genuine comment which couldn't have been closer to the truth.

In a moment of rare vulnerability, Carlisle let himself hold onto what she said. "I am very lucky," he agreed. "They've made my life all the more rewarding."

They shared a smile, something real and strange, which made Carlisle feel like his insides might be twisting into a ball, as impossible as that was for a vampire.

"Doc," Colleen appeared around the curtain suddenly. "Sorry to interrupt, but Mr. Hudson is insisting that he's having a heart attack." She put her hands on her hips, looking Esme up and down. "Oh hun, take your shoes off and get comfortable. Head injury. You're going to be here for a while."

"Colleen, can we get some acetaminophen for Miss Platt and an ice pack. If the nausea persists, I'll put in an order for dimenhydrinate."

"I'll get you whatever you want, doc, as long as you deal with Mr. Hudson." She looked at Esme. "He's the reason I went grey."

Colleen flitted from the room and Carlisle shrugged. "She really is a good nurse, I promise."

"She sounds like fun," Esme said.

"I'll be back when the results of your x-ray come in." He stood and walked away, somehow already missing her presence by the time he was on the other side of the curtain.

He made his way over to Mr. Hudson's room, assured the man he was not having a heart attack, and returned to the nursing station to assure Miss Platt's—Esme's—x-ray had been ordered. One of the younger nurses at the desk who wore too much mascara and always blinked heavily at him informed him that a porter had already come up to retrieve Miss Platt and take her down to imaging.

"Doctor Cullen," she called as he began to walk away. "Your son is here—Edward. He said he'd wait in your office."

"Thank you, Jenny."

Carlisle walked away as she beamed at him.

He could hear Edward before he'd even entered his office. The boy was leafing through the medical journals on his desk. "Anything interesting?" Carlisle asked by way of greeting.

"The new cardiac stenting procedure looks promising."

Carlisle nodded, sitting down behind his desk. "Is everything okay? Or did you really come to talk about stents?"

"No to the stents."

Carlisle's face fell. It wasn't unusual for the family to visit him at work, it was usually just preceeded by a text or a phone call. Edward turning up unexpectedly worried him.

"I assume you've seen to Miss Platt by now?" Edward said.

"Yes, how did you—"

"She slipped on some ice at school, but Emmett said he and Jasper had just emerged from the forest behind the high school. They were running to beat the bell and stopped late. He thinks she saw them. That's why she fell."

"I see." Carlisle folded his hands across his desk. "She didn't mention anything to me."

"Nor would she, I assume. It's not the most sane accusation."

"No, but I also didn't observe any unusual behaviour. She was pleasant. Spoke highly of the family."

"Do you think she'd say something?"

"I don't know. I'll keep an eye on her and let you know if anything comes of it." She'd obviously hit her head pretty hard and lost consciousness, so it was possible she had amnesia from right before the fall. With time those memories might return, though she'd most likely assume she'd imagined it. He hoped her x-rays came back clear, though he had no intention of discharging her until he was certain she wouldn't lose consciousness again.

"You're concerned for her?"

"Excuse me?" Carlisle said, breaking from his thoughts. He shook his head. "I'm sorry, Edward. My mind is somewhere else."

"I know." He grinned. "I heard. Carlisle, is there something about this woman?"

"I don't know, son. But right now she's a patient and I need to make sure she leaves my care in good standing."

"You're right. I'm going to return to school. Just . . . be careful. We don't know what she thinks right now."

"Thank you, Edward." They left the office together and parted at the nursing station. Carlisle watched Edward leave, as did much of the staff.

"Doctor!" Colleen called from her seat in front of one of the computers.

He looked over the top of the counter at her as she held up a large yellow folder.

"Platt's x-rays are back." She spun away on her chair as another call bell went off.

Carlisle moved around the back of the desk to retrieve the folder and slipped into the dark room behind the desk that housed the narcotics cupboard. He pressed the x-rays into the light box on the wall, flicked the switch, and studied the illuminated picture. There were no identifiable new fractures, but Carlisle did note shadowing that looked like the result of previously healed injuries. The longer he studied the image, the more he found, and concern built inside him. Patterns like this usually indicated some sort of trauma or abuse, and for the first time Carlisle wondered what brought Esme to the sleepy little town of Forks.

Seeing as there was nothing of present concern, Carlisle filed away the x-rays and returned to bay 2, finding Colleen switching out an ice pack for the back of Esme's head.

"Good news," he said. "There are no skull fractures."

"Well that's a relief," Esme said, wincing as Colleen adjusted the ice pack. "Can I go now?"

"I'm afraid not. You'll be with us overnight."

Esme sighed. "It was worth a try."

"Nice one, hun, but nothing gets past the doc and me." They could hear Mr. Hudson's call bell going off again. "It's why people keep coming back for repeat visits."

Colleen marched away, hollering down that hall at Mr. Hudson.

"How's the nausea?" Carlisle asked.

"Better now. The drugs have kicked in and I'm tired. Is it okay to sleep or is that a bad sign?"

Carlisle chuckled. "Keeping a concussed person awake is a myth. As long as you're able to hold a conversation and no other symptoms are developing, I'd say you're safe to sleep. At this point it's actually good for you and will help the brain recover."

"Good," Esme sighed, "because if I'm not allowed to read or mark I need something to pass the time."

"It'll only be for a few days."

"Yes and by then I'll be drowning in essays."

"I can imagine," Carlisle said. "If I put off my charting for a couple days I probably wouldn't even want to come to work again."

Esme smiled. "It's a good thing I like my work."

"Then we'll work on getting you back there as soon as possible."

Esme covered her mouth as she yawned. Carlisle nodded gently and slipped around the curtain to let her rest. Again he felt odd leaving her, but invigorated by their conversation. He wanted to know more about her, to learn everything there was to know about her: likes, dislikes, her past, how she came to be in Forks. Why she went into teaching? He wondered what the others thought of her? Wondered what it would be like to have a conversation that wasn't over a hospital bed?

He plopped down in the chair at the nursing station, starting a chart for Esme, but for a long time just stared at the curtain, thinking about the woman asleep behind it and the odd feelings tightening in his chest.

* * *

 **A/N:** thanks to everyone who took the time to read and comment so far. In case you hadn't noticed this is an alternate universe story. I really need to stop starting new fics before finishing my old ones, but for some reason this human-Esme-meets-the-Cullen's story just kept banging around my head and I can't focus on school. So, I've started writing it down. A few side notes: Bella is obviously already a vampire and there is no Renesmee; also, I intend this story to be slightly darker and deal with more human emotions especially related to what Esme has experienced in her past. So much of Edward and Bella's story was limited by Bella's age. She simply hadn't had a lot of life experience to draw from. What I love about Esme is, aside from meeting and falling in love with a nice vampire, she has this rich backstory with pain and loss and a jerk of an ex-husband who is obviously going to cause problems because I like drama. Also . . . I don't know how everyone feels about it, but this story may go up to an M rating as the relationship progresses . . . not just for themes of abuse but also for sexy!times. So, side note again, if you're triggered by any of this, I'll hate to lose you as a reader, but keep you and your mental health safe!

P.S. I love hearing from you and it feeds my muse, so don't be shy to drop me a comment even if it's just to say hi. :)

Now I'm off to fiddle with the next chapter and avoid finishing my university projects like a true procrastinator. Go me!


	5. Chapter 5

It was well past shift change when Edward looked at his phone and noticed a text from Carlisle. "Carlisle's staying at the hospital tonight," he informed the others.

"I could have told you that," Alice chirped.

Emmett shrugged his brows up and down, making an obscene gesture, causing Bella to roll her eyes. "I'm sure he has lots of patients that need attention, Emmett."

"Yeah, but when was the last time he pulled a double? Hmmm."

Rosalie crossed the living room and sat next to him. "He's probably trying to make sure your stunt doesn't get us into trouble."

"Aw, Rose, babe, I'm sorry."

"I know. But you're still an idiot."

Emmett grinned. "It's part of my charm."

* * *

When Esme awoke the next morning, Carlisle averted his eyes, pretending he hadn't been there watching her sleep for the better part of the night.

"Doctor Cullen," she croaked, surprise evident in her voice. "You're still here?" She looked around for the clock. "Isn't your shift over?"

Carlisle smiled. "I wanted to assess you once more before I left."

Rubbing the sleep out of her eyes, Esme made the most adorable little groan. "I'm still at the hospital. My name is still Esme. There's probably still two inches of ice on the ground outside. And I am no longer nauseous, nor do I have a headache." She flopped back down on the pillow, her curly hair spiralling around her face. "If I let you shine that awful light in my eyes may I go home?"

"Yes," Carlisle agreed. "I will write up your discharge papers before I leave, so long as you promise not to overexert yourself."

"Yes, yes, I promise."

Esme sat up obediently, causing Carlisle to chuckle as he pulled the penlight from his pocket. She was rather endearing. He flicked the light across her eyes.

"Well?" she prompted when he was finished.

"I'm satisfied," he said. "I'll send the nurse in with your papers in a moment."

"Doctor Cullen," she called as he reached the curtain surrounding her bed.

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

"You are most welcome."

Carlisle was due home any moment and Alice was positively radiating excited energy as she bounced from window to window, awaiting the first sight of his car peeling down the drive. When she saw his black Mercedes, she ran from the room in a giddy panic, causing the others to laugh.

They heard the tires crunch over snow as Carlisle pulled into the garage.

"He's whistling," Bella said, looking to the front door where they could hear Carlisle coming up the front steps. "Why is he whistling?"

Alice danced back into the room with a magazine, settling on the arm of the couch beside Edward and attempting to hide her smile behind the pages of Vogue.

"He's trying to keep me out," Edward muttered. He moved his rook across the chess board and Jasper smirked, giving up his queen.

"But is he thinking of her?" Alice almost squealed.

"He's reciting the Cyrillic alphabet."

"But something is making him incredibly happy," Jasper said with a smirk.

Carlisle breezed into the room then, looking just as ready to burst as Alice felt. "Good morning," he called, disappearing upstairs to his study before any of them could inquire about his good mood.

"And so it begins," Alice muttered, looking to the stairs. She took Jasper by the hand then and led him to the back porch, pulling him away from his chess game with Edward.

"Hey," Edward complained, "we weren't finished."

"Oh, please, you could have won four moves ago. You were just toying with him at this point." She lowered her voice. "We have more important things to worry about."

"Where are you two going?" Emmett called.

Alice smiled, showing all her teeth. "To plot."

Emmett tossed the video game controller aside and rolled off the couch. "C'mon Rosie, let's go help. I've got nothing better to do."

"Actually you do," Rosalie reminded him, flipping over another page of her Motor Trend magazine. "That Shakespeare paper is due tomorrow."

"Wait," Alice said, turning on the spot. Her eyes glazed over and a tiny smile crossed her face. "Emmett, how do you feel about flunking that paper?"

He shrugged. "I didn't want to write it anyways. Let's go hunting."

* * *

Esme wasn't sure how her car had found it's way home, but she was pleasantly surprised to find her keys in her mailbox after the cab had dropped her off.

She assumed the apartment complex manager had been nice enough to put them there and though she probably wouldn't be driving for a couple days, it was one less complication to sort through when this silly concussion business was over.

As she entered her apartment and looked around, there was an empty kind of feeling in her chest. What exactly she was supposed to do for the next couple of days if she wasn't supposed to read or mark for extended periods was beyond her. She supposed she could watch a bit of TV. Doctor Cullen had told her to limit the screens, though he also said she could slowly reintroduce things as long as she was asymptomatic. And as far as she was concerned, the headache from yesterday was gone.

Esme puttered around her apartment for a while, sorting laundry and doing the dishes she had left in the sink a couple days ago. She opened her planner and decided it would be safe to maybe look at a couple of the tests on Hamlet her kids had just written, but by the third one she found herself blinking heavily and fighting off sleep and decided she had probably exerted herself enough.

So she made her way to bed, climbed under the covers, and slept away the morning.

When she woke it was mid-afternoon and after some lunch, she decided to give Sarah a call. There had been a couple voicemails left on her phone, the last of which was sounding concerned.

"Where the hell have you been? I was getting worried."

"Hello to you too," Esme said at the sound of Sarah's voice.

"Sorry, hi. But like actually?"

"It's only been a day."

"That's one day longer than normal. Don't scare me like that, Esme. At least send a text."

"I'm sorry, apparently when you fall and hit your head the doctor takes away phone privileges."

"I can't tell if you're joking."

"I'm not," Esme assured her as she tucked into the couch with a mug of green tea. "I slipped on some ice at school, bumped my head, was escorted to the hospital via ambulance, and spent a night in the emerge with a concussion."

"Only you," Sarah snorted. "Well that sucks. You're obviously alive and well and not actively dying if you've escaped and they're letting you talk to me again."

Esme sipped her tea. "I'm fine. I have to take it easy for a few more days, then I can go back to work."

"Are they going to make you wear a football helmet?"

Esme shook her head. "You're so funny."

"I know. I try. This is what happens when I don't talk to you for a day. All the bad jokes get built up."

"Well joke away because it's your job to keep me entertained for the near future since marking makes me sleepy."

"Good to know, you can stay on speaker phone while I try to feed my children dinner. Just so you know, Kayla has now entered the phase of life where the carrots either get shoved up her nose or catapulted across the kitchen."

"Maybe she's telling you she doesn't like carrots."

"Maybe. I'm being stubborn about it." Sarah grunted as she popped the lid off some food jars. "So, tell me about the hospital? Was the doctor that looked after you at least hot?"

Esme opened her mouth to respond, but the question caught her off guard and she didn't know quite how to answer.

"Oh my God!" Sarah said. "He totally was!"

"I never said that."

"But you didn't deny it." She waited, "Esme?"

"I—well, he's the parent of some of my students."

"Oh," Sarah groaned. "He's married?"

"No, actually."

"Divorced?"

"I don't think so. I don't think he's ever been married."

"Well there's potential then."

"It wasn't like that," Esme said, denying the strange fluttery feelings in her gut when she thought about yesterday and last night.

"Are you sure, because it sounds like you talked kids and relationship status. I mean, what exactly does that tell you?"

"He's really nice, Sarah. And handsome. And funny. And considerate. And I don't know." Esme bit her lip.

"Oh, girl, you have it bad."

Esme stood up suddenly, pacing in front of her couch. "I don't even know the man. How can I?"

"It only takes a moment. You used to tell me that, didn't you? What happened to all your love at first sight mumbo-jumbo?"

"Charles happened."

"Es—"

"No, you're right. This isn't about him."

"Exactly. This is about you and doctor hotpants."

"That is not what I said."

"It's what you were thinking. I know these things. I also might just be hoping for you to live out my Grey's Anatomy fantasy with a beautifully built doctor."

"You have a Grey's fantasy?" Esme giggled.

"Oh tell me you've never wanted to call someone doctor in bed."

"No."

"Well give doctor hotpants a call and then get back to me."

"Not happening," Esme said.

"Alright, you probably shouldn't while you've got a concussion anyway. That's probably something you want to remember."

"Sarah," Esme groaned.

"I'm teasing. But seriously, Es, be more careful, and next time tell your doctor person to call me back if he's not going to let you talk to me. You scared me."

"I will. I promise. I'll talk to you later okay?"

"Okay. Take care of yourself."

Esme hung up the phone, smiling despite herself. It felt good to be able to joke with Sarah about a guy again. How long had that been? Years. Long before Charles, that's for sure. And there was nothing much to joke about when they were married. Not when everything she did seemed to make him angry. Esme pushed those thoughts away, which was easier than she thought as images of Doctor Cullen filled her mind. What she'd told Sarah had been true. There was just something about him that had left her with this feeling . . . there was an ease there that she had never known in a relationship before. Something that made her want to be around him.

"Hotpants," Esme mused to herself, shaking her head as she placed her mug in the kitchen sink. Only Sarah would immediately jump to that conclusion. And Esme wasn't going to deny that she'd been attracted to him. Really, she'd be hard pressed to find any straight woman who wasn't; but there was just something else about him. Something she couldn't quite explain.


	6. Chapter 6

The following week Alice was relieved to see that Miss Platt returned to her usual place at the front of the classroom looking no worse for wear. She also started to notice a trend. Carlisle would disappear for several hours after work each afternoon, returning after dark with an assortment of food packages and bags that had starting accumulating in the garage.

"He's been grocery shopping after his shift every day this week," Emmett mumbled. "We're gonna have to drive this food up to Port Angeles so we don't look suspicious. dropping it at the food pantry here. At this rate Carlisle might as well just buy the store, too."

"Well, when else is he going to run into her?" Rosalie mused. She raised a delicate brow. "It's not as if they work together."

Emmett smirked. "He really does have it bad, doesn't he?"

"I don't even think he realizes how much yet," Edward said. "Right now he's fascinated by her. Love, at least in the romantic sense, wasn't something he ever thought he'd find. He'd resigned himself to that, to loving his job and his family, but now there's this woman . . ." Edward chuckled. "His mind has been a right old mess these last weeks."

"Don't tease," Bella said, swatting his arm as she leaned close enough to kiss him. "Carlisle deserves this. He deserves to be happy with someone who is just as crazy about him."

"That's the kicker, though, isn't it? How do we know how she feels. I mean, the guy is a vampire," Emmett pointed out.

A pillow soared across the room and whacked him in the head. Alice crossed her arms as Emmett laughed. "He's also sweet and kind and—"

"—rich and a doctor," Rosalie said. "Not to mention godlike in the looks department, especially by human standards. Really, she doesn't stand a chance."

"Rose, honestly!" Alice said.

"What? It's true." She pointed to Bella and Edward. "Exhibit A is sitting right there. We've been through this before. Just let it happen naturally, Alice. Stop trying to meddle."

"I just want everything to be perfect," she sighed, pressing her fingertips against her temples. "Why can't I see what's next?"

Jasper stood and kissed the top of her head. "Let's go hunting, take your mind off it for a while, shall we?"

"I'm in," Emmett said, bounding across the room. He grinned a wicked kind of grin. "Race ya, Eddie boy?"

"Well who can say no to that?" Edward jumped from the sofa, crossing the room right behind Emmett.

* * *

It was just after 5pm as Esme made her way down to La Push reservation for her tutoring session with Jacob Black and the assortment of friends that turned up for free help with their homework.

The small oak table in Billy's little kitchen had become quite crowded these past few weeks as the boys approached midterms. Esme was lucky enough to find that Jacob was studying Macbeth, just like her junior classes, so she was more than prepared to be coaching him through his homework.

Unsurprisingly, both Jacob's best friends, Quil and Embry turned up with sheepish smiles and textbooks in hand.

"Hey, Miss Platt," Embry said, plopping down next to her. They seemed taller every time she saw them.

"Hello boys. Homework?"

"Ugh, I wish," Quil said. "An essay isn't homework. It's cruel and unusual punishment. What kind of teacher sends that home to be completed?"

Esme grinned at his theatrics.

"It wouldn't be take-home work if you spent your time in class finishing it instead of crushing on Lynn—"

Quil pulled Jacob into a headlock as he sniggered.

"Boys," Esme said. "Don't make me separate you."

"Don't worry, Miss Platt." Jacob pushed Quil away with minimal effort. "He's not strong enough to do any real damage."

"Yet," Quil said, punching Jacob's arm. "Just you wait. The Ateara genes are far superior to the Black's."

Jacob snorted, opening his soda and taking a long swig.

"What is your essay topic?" Esme asked Quil.

He picked up his loose-leaf paper and read from the top. "The supernatural plays an important role in _Macbeth_. To what extent does it motivate Macbeth's actions?"

He looked at her, deadpan, and she fought off the urge to chuckle.

"Well?" she prompted. "What's your thesis?"

"He doesn't know what thesis means," Embry murmured and Jacob sniggered.

"I do too," Quil said. "I just don't even now what's up with this question? Like what supernatural things? Ghosts? Witches? Those things aren't real, so why was it such a big deal? Why do I have to write an essay about it?"

"Well," Esme said, "You have to consider it the way people would have perceived this story back in Shakespere's time. They were much more superstitious back then."

"Yeah, think about it," Jake said. "We have all those legends about the wolves and the Cold Ones that no one believes anymore, but it was obviously something our ancestors believed."

"Jake," Embry hissed, "those stories aren't supposed to leave the reservation."

Jacob took a sip of his soda. "We're sitting at my kitchen table. This isn't Fork's mini-mart. And besides, it's Miss Platt. If I pass this midterm Billy's going to make her an honorary Quileute."

"Heck," Quil said, reaching across the table. "You don't even need to pass anymore. If she keeps bringing these cookies, she can stay forever."

Esme smiled. "You're going to spoil your dinner, Quil."

Jacob grabbed two. "Trust me, Miss Platt. You don't have to worry about that." He bit into a large chocolate chip and grinned a pearly white smile. "Want to hear some authentic Quileute legends?"

By the time Esme got home that night her head was spinning and she drank a glass of water and took two Tylenol to chase away the headache she could feel forming behind her eyes. It was almost nine and she still had to start marking those senior papers on Hamlet.

By the time she'd showered, prepped her lessons, and packed her bag, she opted to just work through lunch tomorrow and crawled into bed. Her dreams that night were full of cold images of a barren forest and ghostly pale figures with red eyes slipping through the trees.

She woke with a start, shivering in the darkness, unable to shake the feeling that something had been watching her. She rubbed her face with both hands and chuckled to herself. She'd let Jacob and his overactive imagination get to her.

The clock read 3AM so she rolled over and tried to go back to sleep. This time it was not pale faced figures that haunted her dreams but Charles and she woke before her alarm, hurrying out of bed and into the shower, hoping to chase away the chill in her bones.

* * *

Alice liked Miss Platt in purple. Of all the colours it seemed to suit her pale complexion and honey brown hair the best. Not that she was anywhere near as pale as them, but with the lack of sunlight in Forks the woman had quickly lost the slight tan she arrived with.

Her purple blouse was accented with a charcoal grey skirt today and black pumps. Alice couldn't wait for the day when she could take Esme shopping. The last addition to the family—Bella—had been such a shopping stickler that Alice feared it might drive a wedge into their relationship, though she'd been forced to admit that even without the love of high-fashion to bond them, she loved Bella more than she ever thought possible. And she was certainly more amiable than Rosalie was most of the time.

Edward smirked at her and Alice waved him away. She was used to him perusing her mind, what with her visions. And for most of Bella's human years Edward had been a constant companion as Alice watched over the ever clumsy high school student.

Now she'd started watching Miss Platt. Carlisle hadn't exactly asked her too, but she knew that day was coming soon and took her responsibilities very seriously. She'd already noted periods where Esme's future turned slightly fuzzy around the edges. It happened about once a week. The first time had utterly terrified Alice and she'd almost thrown Jasper across the room in her haste to find Edward and ask him what he thought it meant.

Now she was slightly less agitated by the change and had taken it upon herself to start studying Esme in the flesh and not just images of her future. It wouldn't do her any good when Carlisle finally introduced them properly to say that she'd had a lovely time spying on her.

So while she'd diligently copied down the note from today's lesson and answered exactly two questions, she'd studied Esme. There were purplish circles under her eyes today, masked by her makeup, but still visible to her keen vampire eyes. She wondered if the woman was having trouble sleeping.

Alice had thought that she was looking relatively healthy actually. She'd learned that Esme frequented a yoga class during the week, evident in the slightly toned muscles in her arms and calves. She also knew that Esme led a happy social life and had even made friends with some of the other teachers. Granted, some of this information was pilfered from bits that Edward pulled from her mind, which was technically cheating, but since it didn't come from a vision Alice decided that it didn't count as cheating.

But today Esme was slightly off. Maybe tired. Maybe something was bothering her. The human mind and human emotions could be quite a tricky place to navigate. Alice had learned that first hand with Bella. But where Bella's past had been fairly straightforward, Esme's was still a mystery.

She had no family in Forks. No previous friends. And it was evident that her teaching skills would have opened up opportunities in schools more esteemed than little old Forks High. So there was definitely a story there, one Alice was eager to unravel. Though she was being patient. She clicked her nails against the desk as she worked through the short answer questions that had been assigned. She'd promised to be patient.

With about two minutes left of class, there was a knock at the door. Alice looked up to see, Mr. Daniels, the history teacher, in the doorway with his five o'clock shadow and subtly coiffed hair. He smelled like faux chemical aftershave and cheap soap.

By human standards he was perhaps nice to look at. From everything Alice had observed, he was even a decent guy. But he wasn't Carlisle, and by the sounds of things, and the beaming smile, he was more than interested in Esme.

"I'll say," Edward said, confirming Alice's suspicions.

"No, no, no," Alice whispered as the bell rang and the students began to file out.

Edward chuckled behind her as she darted through slow moving students to reach the desk up front.

Mr. Daniels had reached Esme and was now making small talk, something about his class and not handing in assignments.

Esme chuckled politely at a joke he made.

"I was going to ask if you had plans after work—"

"Miss Platt!" Alice almost shrieked as she arrived at the front of the room.

Esme looked over, almost startled to see her, but her shock melted into a genuine smile. "Hello, dear."

"I need help . . . with the lesson," Alice decided. There was a moment when she hesitated because what she really wanted to say was not to give this guy the time of day because there was a much better man out there. One that would make her incredibly happy if she gave him half a chance because she had seen it. She had seen Esme as part of their family. As one of them even. But she couldn't say that because that would make her sound like a lunatic.

Just then Edward passed her, slipping her copy of Macbeth into her hands.

"Is there something you're struggling with, Alice?"

"Yes, um, you see, I'm quite lost with the whole idea of how exactly Banquo acts as a foil to Macbeth's character."

Esme nodded, waving a hand to the chair in front of her desk, inviting Alice to stay. She looked briefly at Mr. Daniels, offering a shy smile and a shrug, "I have quite a bit of marking to do tonight. Rain check?"

"Of course." Mr. Daniels ducked his head and backed out of the room.

Alice left the classroom exactly seven and a half minutes later. They would be late for fourth period, but in keeping with the student facade, sometimes it was prudent to show up late.

"Did you learn something?" Edward teased, pushing off the locker where he and Bella had been waiting, "Because I'm pretty sure I edited a dissertation paper on that exact topic for you a few years back."

Alice beamed. "I did actually. She grew up in Ohio. Her grandparents owned a farm. She loves the outdoors, old architecture, and home decor. We've bonded."

Bella shook her head. "How did you manage that in seven minutes?"

"Because people find me pleasantly charming," Alice said. "Now crisis averted. Let's go find the others. I have lots to tell Jasper."

They had just started to walk down the hall when Alice stopped suddenly, a smile stretching across her face.

"What's that look for?"

She broke from the vision and turned to Edward. "Carlisle is going to have a parent-teacher interview with her tomorrow thanks to Emmett's Hamlet paper."

"You mean the one he didn't write?" Bella asked.

"He wrote it," Alice defended. "Just not well."

"I thought we told you to be patient?"

Alice groaned. "What do you think I've been doing?"

* * *

When Carlisle listened to his voicemail the next morning at work he nodded at the expected: patient referrals, hospital board meetings, though he was surprised to find one from Esme. The sound of her voice made him grin, even though she apparently wanted to talk to him about a paper Emmett wrote. Or lack thereof by the sounds of things.

He quickly called the school back and asked to have a message passed to her. He'd meet Miss Platt at 3:30, when his shift was finished.

His next order of business was to text Emmett.

\- Is there something I should know?

\- You're devilishly handsome, but I think you have a scarf addiction.

Carlisle rolled his eyes.

\- I just received a call from your English teacher.

\- Whatever it is, I didn't do it. I swear.

\- That's exactly what I'm hearing. Does Hamlet ring a bell?

\- Mmmm . . . nope. Can't say it does.

Carlisle sighed. Emmett was clearly up to something, though in the long list of Emmett related catastrophes, not completing an essay was relatively minor. He'd smooth it over with Esme this afternoon and figure out what was going on with Emmett later. In his experience, it might be better if he didn't know.


	7. Chapter 7

Esme was just wiping down the dry erase board with a damp cloth after second period when the secretary buzzed the classroom.

"Miss Platt?" the voice said.

"Yes?" Esme paused, turning her head slightly to face the tiny grey box posted on the wall near the door. She focused over the din in the hallway, watching rowdy students make their way to lunch.

"I just received a phone call from Doctor Cullen. He'll be happy to meet you in your classroom around 3:30."

"Thank you, Mrs. Cope."

The box beeped twice and Esme left the board and went to make a note in her planner. A swell of nerves suddenly filled her and she sat down for a moment and told herself to breathe. This was part of her job. To talk to parents when she was concerned for the academic welfare of her pupils. Just because said parent happened to be an incredibly attractive and kind man who had treated her for a concussion had no bearing on this meeting whatsoever.

This was to help Emmett.

She could be a professional.

She sat down behind her desk and opened her laptop to scan her emails and when she saw her lawyers name, her concern over this afternoons meeting deflated, and was replaced with an anxious ball that had been tightening in her gut for a few weeks now.

She opened the email and scanned the first few lines. Then she slammed the laptop closed. Charles wasn't cooperating with the lawyers. He wanted to meet in person before he signed the papers.

Esme knew better than to put herself anywhere near him, though. If she made the mistake of going to him, she'd get hurt. It wasn't like Charles to forgive and when she'd left him, she knew she could never go back. It's why she ran.

It's why she packed up what little she could of her life and disappeared. He'd been away on a three day business trip and she'd called into the menial temp job she had, hoping the bruises would fade before her next set of shifts. It was that day, while she was trying to find a shirt that covered her bruises, that she'd snapped.

She had stopped teaching because of Charles. She had lost a child because of Charles. She'd all but given up living because of him.

She couldn't do it anymore.

She wouldn't. And she wouldn't put herself in the position to be hurt by him any longer.

She replied to the email and declined the meeting. She told the lawyer again that she didn't want anything from the man except his signature. He could keep his money and the property. She just wanted to be free.

"Hey there!"

She jumped at the quick rap, rap against the door frame, looking up to find Tammi standing there in a very red track suit. "Can I interest you in lunch?"

"Absolutely," Esme said, abandoning her desk with a forced smile.

"How do you feel about Thai?"

Esme wrinkled her nose and Tammi laughed. "Good, because there's only one decent lunch place in town and it serves burgers."

"I could do a burger," Esme agreed.

"This is why I like you, Platt."

Tammi led the way down the hall and to the parking lot.

Tammi was the kind of person who could brighten your day just by being in the same room. By the time their burgers arrived, Esme was laughing so hard her ribs hurt. So, when she returned to teach her third period, her mind wasn't exactly clear, but she'd had enough time to push her worries aside.

Mostly.

* * *

"Did she seem off to you?" Alice wondered as they left third period English. She looked over her shoulder to make sure no students were listening, though when it was convenient they tended to speak too low and fast for anyone to notice.

"She was very preoccupied," Edward said. "Every time she looked at us she kept thinking about the meeting with Carlisle this afternoon. I think she's nervous."

Alice grinned.

"There's was something else too, but she wouldn't focus on it long enough for me to make out what it was about. All I know is it's causing her stress." Edward sighed. "I think we should talk to Carlisle tonight."

"You do?"

"Yes, really talk to him. Your visions seem sure. Even more so than they ever did with Bella at first. If Esme truly is to become part of the family we need to talk about it. She has a past and history that we don't know about. It might be more difficult to pull her from this world and into ours if she so chooses it."

"Well you don't have to make it sound so dramatic," Alice huffed. "But you're right. Let's see what comes of this meeting and then we'll talk to Carlisle."

* * *

At exactly 3:29 pm there was a knock on her classroom door. Esme looked up from her desk, to the man framed in the doorway.

Her memory had not done him justice. Maybe it was because she'd been suffering from a concussion, or maybe because she had mostly just slept the last time they met, but she hadn't quite remembered just how tall he was.

Standing before her now, she was sure he had to be over six feet.

His blond hair was pushed back from his face casually, like he'd been running his fingers through it. And the pale grey tie strung around his neck was crooked, but only slightly, and it only added to his charm, Esme thought.

For a brief moment she had to remind herself to breathe.

Then he smiled and she just about forgot her name.

By some miracle she stood, and crossed the room to meet him at the door. "Doctor Cullen," she greeted. "It's nice to see you again."

He took her hand, squeezing gently. His skin was cold and she distinctly remembered thinking his cold hands had been a better remedy for her sore head than any ice pack. That brought warmth to her cheeks and when she should have shivered, she instead felt a blush creeping across her skin.

"Please, call me Carlisle. And likewise; I don't exactly envy myself the discussion we're about to have about my son, but it is good to see you up and about."

Esme nodded, realizing only then that he still held her hand. He seemed to notice then as well and let her go, though almost against his will, she thought.

"Well," she said. "Apparently I had a good doctor."

She motioned with her hands and Carlisle followed her back to her desk.

"Uh oh, flattery. Emmett must really be in trouble."

Esme made a face as they sat down across from eachother, something she hoped was sympathetic, while still conveying the seriousness of the matter. She pulled Emmett's paper from a folder and passed it across the desk. The bright red 37 was circled in pen. Twice.

Carlisle's eyes widened as he picked it up, flipping through the paper.

"He really is a bright boy."

"Yes," Carlisle smiled. His eyes scanned quickly . . . impossibly fast really. "I think people have a tendency of underestimating him because he's rather . . ."

"Easy going?" Esme offered.

"Yes, that exactly. But he works hard. I honestly have no idea how this happened."

"His work up until this point has been impeccable," Esme confessed. "He's insightful and his writing often carries some of his good natured humour, which is an impressive skill in someone so young."

Carlisle beamed at her and for a moment she was distracted. She dropped her eyes, focusing on her desk. Be professional, Esme!

"I'd really like to give him another chance," she said, looking up to find Carlisle nodding at her. "Though he'll have to meet a strict deadline of course."

"I think Emmett would be most agreeable to that."

Esme was relieved. She didn't know how she envisioned this meeting ending. She'd seen all kinds when it came to parenting styles. Some left her with concern etched into the tiny worry lines by their eyes. Others clenched their fists and grumbled about laziness when it came to their kids. And still others were indifferent. Sometimes it broke her heart.

But Carlisle was none of these. He seemed reasonable, though very much involved, and there was definitely no trace of worry etched into his flawless skin.

She caught his eyes, which seemed to be a darker shade of gold then what she'd seen at the hospital. They were still just as mesmerizing and she found herself blushing as she looked away again.

"I'm glad. I'll let him know tomorrow and give him the week to get the paper on my desk."

She stood, indicating that their meeting had come to an end, even though some part of her brain was screaming for her to sit back down.

Carlisle stood as well, albeit slowly, and his eyes flickered to her face several times, almost like he was nervous. She tilted her head to regard him, having the most peculiar urge to push the loose piece of hair that had fallen against his forehead away from his face.

"Esme," he began in a voice so soft, so delicate that she grew curious about what he would say next.

He licked his lips, swallowed, and she felt those butterflies beat against her stomach.

"I hope you don't think it improper for me to ask. But would you . . . I mean, could I take you out for a coffee sometime?"

Esme startled at his question and found herself gaping at him quite obviously. At this incredibly handsome man who was sweet and gentle and loved his work. And who so clearly loved his children.

He was everything that you could ever want in a coffee date, even if he only ever intended it as friends. And the fact that he had asked her, left her speechless. The butterflies picked up speed, hovering beneath her ribs, and danced like she'd just run a marathon.

But Charles had been that way too, at first. Handsome. Charming. Sweet, even. Then things changed. And she lost herself. She was just now starting to find her footing again, but the rest of her life was still a mess. She wasn't sure she should even be considering going out for coffee with another man, let alone her students' father. The same man who had just treated her for a concussion a few weeks back. She was sure she was crossing some sort of boundary line she wasn't supposed to.

She must of hesitated too long because his face fell—only minutely—but it was enough to make her heart thud painfully. And she wanted to make him smile again.

He began to retract, to apologize, but she held up her hand. "I'd like that, Carlisle. Very much."

Wait! What was she doing? This is not how the conversation had gone in her head. What was wrong with her?

"Great," he said, and the smile returned to his face, full and bright. "How about Saturday? I could pick you up? We could go to Port Angeles?"

"Yes. Alright," Esme agreed, feeling the butterflies do somersaults against her skin. She walked him to the door. This time when Carlisle took her hand, he didn't let it go, but first pressed his lips to her knuckles in a gentle kiss.

"Until Saturday," he said, turning and disappearing down the hall.

Esme had to grab the door frame for support, feeling very much like her legs might give out and she'd dissolve into a limp pile on the floor. She lifted her hand to her cheek, feeling the flush burn underneath. What on earth had just happened?


	8. Chapter 8

When Carlisle arrived home that afternoon he was vibrating with a kind of overwhelming energy. He didn't know what had come over him during the meeting with Esme, or what had prompted him to invite her to coffee of all things, the only thing he knew was that he had to keep seeing her.

Glimpses in town, from across the grocery store, or in the parking lot of the school as he took the long way home from the hospital weren't enough. The little asides from his family about her weren't enough.

He wanted to talk to her. To get to know her. The need to see her felt like an addiction. Like a nagging feeling in his subconscious. The only thing he could compare it to was the unending want for blood. Over the years he had mastered his blood lust, and learned to work in the very environment that should drive him mad, but could he overcome this feeling? Did he even want to?

Truthfully, he didn't. He wanted to fall headlong into it and never stop chasing that addiction. And that revelation in itself was such an odd and curious understanding that he couldn't quite wrap his head around. He'd spent close to three centuries on this earth, and never once had he been moved by a person the way he was for Esme.

What was happening?

As he entered through the garage, passing the front hall and crossing the living room, he was greeted by the entire family. They were seated around the large kitchen table, the one used for family discussions, usually of the more serious nature. He wandered over, placed his bag on top of the unused china hutch, and looked around, feeling very odd. It wasn't often that he was the center of discussion, and yet he felt as though he was about to be put on the spot.

As he thought this, they all smiled at him, in varying degrees of anticipation. Bella leaned her head against Edward's shoulder, seemingly pleased.

Edward looked as stoic as ever, though there was a glimmer in his eye that told Carlisle he was more than aware of what had been going on inside his head for the past few weeks.

Emmett had his chin folded on his hands, playing the innocent party, and Carlisle was certain he was about to find out what role he had orchestrated in all of this.

As he continued around the table, both Jasper and Rosalie shared a look of smug satisfaction.

But it was Alice who gave it all away and Carlisle could tell she was trying very hard to contain herself for his benefit. Finally, she burst and threw both hands down on the kitchen table, making the wood shudder and for a moment Carlisle wondered if the legs would buckle.

"So is there something you want to tell us?" Alice demanded. Judging by her smile, she'd already seen, so he determined that there was no point in trying to dodge the question.

"Emmett has a make-up essay due next week. And . . . I'm taking your English teacher to coffee this weekend."

Alice squealed, her feathery hair bouncing around her head as she danced in place. "I knew it," she sang, clapping her hands together. "Didn't I tell you all?"

"Sit down, old man. Join us," Emmett said, his imitated calm breaking as a wide grin replaced it. He pulled out Carlisle's chair.

Carlisle sat, looking around at the faces of his family.

Rosalie frowned, crossing her arms against her chest as she studied him. "Why don't you look happier?"

Carlisle opened his mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. All the while he ran his fingers through his hair. It was a nervous twitch. One he'd picked up in boyhood which had followed him into the immortal life.

"Carlisle—" Edward said softly.

"It's only, I never . . ." he exhaled slowly. "I thought it was my curse to be alone because of what I became, but then I found you all. And we became family."

Alice nodded empahtically.

"And I always thought it was enough. You've made me happier than I ever thought possible in this life, but when I look at her . . ."

"Carlisle, she'd be a fool not to like you, too," Bella said.

"I can scarcely let myself imagine."

Jasper winced at the look on Carlisle's face.

"Oh, Carlisle," Alice began. "I've seen it. You don't need to worry. I don't know how you go about getting there or how she'll react to finding out, but I've seen you together and she knows. And you both look so happy."

"And just so you know," Bella added, "we want this as much as you do, Carlisle. Esme seems like a wonderful woman, and if she makes you happy, it'll work out somehow."

Carlisle felt a swell of hope burst inside him.

"Besides," Rosalie interjected. "It worked out for Edward and he's much more stubborn than you."

They all laughed and the tension seemed to dissolve from the room.

"Alright," Alice said suddenly. "Time to get serious. What are you going to wear on your date?"

* * *

It was a Wednesday, but Billy had called her earlier, so despite Esme's immediate need to call Sarah and have a slight meltdown about agreeing to go to coffee with Carlisle, she got into her car and drove down to La Push reservation.

It had snowed earlier, though most of it had already melted, and the roads were clear.

Jacob met her at the door when she pulled into the driveway and waved her on through the house to the table.

"Dad's ice fishing with Harry Clearwater, but he told me to say hi for him and to make sure I offered you a drink. So, drinks?"

"Just water is fine, Jacob."

He nodded and poured her a glass, adding a few ice cubes from a tray in the freezer.

It only took a few minutes for Quil and Embry to show up, letting themselves in the back door.

"You could still knock," Jacob said, looking exasperated.

Quil shrugged. "You knew we were coming."

Esme smiled at them. "Hello, boys."

"Miss Platt, guess what?" Quil held up his paper. "I aced it."

"You did not," Embry declared. "That's a seventy-two."

"Like I said," Quil repeated, speaking slowly for Embry's benefit. "I. Aced. It!"

Esme chuckled at their banter. "Well, I am very proud of you."

"Thanks. I try." He plopped down next to her and looked across the table at Jacob expectantly. Jacob sighed but got up and retrieved a couple sodas from the fridge for his friends.

"Go easy," he said, "dad hasn't gone shopping yet."

They settled in, pulling out their most recent assignments, and Esme went to work answering questions and guiding them towards the right topics for their short story revisions.

"So is there a reason we're meeting on Wednesday instead of Thursday," Esme wondered as she reviewed Jacob's paragraph on the use of foreshadowing in Macbeth.

"Tomorrow's our big beach bonfire," he said. "We're gonna be busy."

Esme frowned. "Isn't it a little cold?"

"That doesn't matter. Everyone comes down, even all the kids from the high school."

"Well not all the kids," Quil said with a strange kind of emphasis.

Esme turned towards him. "What does that mean?"

"The Cullen's don't come here." Jacob shrugged. "I don't know why."

But the look in Embry's eye told her there was history there, old and hostile. She wisely decided not to mention her association with the Cullen's or their father and marked up some of Jacob's paper with red pen. She passed it back to him.

"So, am I safe to assume that most of my class won't be showing up this Friday?"

Jacob smirked. "That's usually how it goes."

By the time Esme got home that night she was exhausted. She flopped down on her bed, still in her work clothes, and for a long minute simply breathed and stared at the ceiling.

She could feel her muscles turning to jello and when he eyes fluttered closed for the second time she rolled over to reach for her phone where she'd plugged it in on the night stand.

She pressed Sarah's contact info and waited for the call to ring out.

"Hello," Sarah answered.

Esme sighed. "I'm tired."

"You and me both, woman."

"I have something to tell you and I wish I had more enthusiasm to convey how utterly terrified I am right now, but at this moment I don't have the energy to rally, so you'll just have to make do."

"Alright," Sarah said, dragging the syllables out. "Is this a bad-bad thing or a good-bad thing?"

"The last one, I think. I'm not sure." She yawned, covering her mouth.

"Well don't fall asleep on me now. Not when my interest is peaked."

"I'm sorry." Esme swallowed and felt a small bubble of panic bloom in her chest. "So, remember when I fell and hit my head and spent the night in the emerge."

"Yes, where Doctor Hotpants watched you sleep?"

"His name is Carlisle," Esme corrected her. "Anyway, he might have asked me out for coffee today."

Sarah squealed, sounding like some kind of small animal.

Esme blinked, pulling the phone away from her ear. Now she was awake. She sat up on her bed, returned the phone to her ear, only to find out that Sarah was still squealing.

"Doctor Hotpants asked you out? Holy shit—"

"—Carlisle."

"Well, what did you say?"

"I froze for a bit . . . but then, well, I guess I sort of said," she exhaled loudly, "yes."

Sarah squealed again. "Oh my God, I want to jump through the phone and hug you right now. I'm so proud of you, Es."

"Well that's great, but I'm sort of freaking out. I don't think it's quite hit me yet, but when it does, I'm going to lose it." She chewed on her lower lip. "Maybe I should call it off. Tell him something came up. I don't know how I'm supposed to sit through an entire coffee date with him, I can barely look at him without blushing or thinking about things I shouldn't be thinking about—"

There was a rustle of breath on the other end of the line.

"Breathe, Es. It's only coffee. Ready, in, hold it," Sarah blew into the phone, "and out again."

"Right. It's only coffee."

"That's right. You can do this. You can have meaningful adult conversations and relationships. This is a good thing."

Esme nodded to herself. Of course she could do this. Anyway, even if she couldn't, if it proved to be too much, it was a good first step. Maybe with more time she'd find the kind of life with someone that she had always imagined with Charles. That she had continued imagining, wondering over and over what she was doing wrong, until finally she realized with a lot of help and coaching from Sarah, that it wasn't her fault.

The only problem now was that she kept seeing Carlisle in that fuzzy image of her imagined future, only she wasn't so sure about how the rest of her life was holding up. Still, she liked the picture of him there.

"He kissed my hand when he left," she told Sarah, "the way they do in movies."

"Ah, swoon. He's got his head screwed on straight."

Esme sighed. And she didn't really.

"Hey, none of that," Sarah said. "It's going to be fine. Better than fine actually. Just think of it this way; you already spent an entire night in this mans company, while you were injured and not functioning on all faculties. If you managed to survive that, and not scare him away, then you can definitely survive this."

"Okay, you're right."

"Yep, just keep repeating that. I'm right. I'm always right. It's why we're friends."

"Because you're always right?"

"Because I peer pressure you into amazingly good decisions."

"Yes you do."

"And you love me for it. So go get some sleep and tomorrow call me so we can pick out something sexy for you to wear on your date."

"Alright, goodnight."

"Night, love you, Es."

Esme hung up the phone and let the conversation sink in. She could do coffee. Then she would figure out the rest of her crazy life.

Attempting to put all thoughts of Carlisle and the nerves about their upcoming date aside, Esme packed her lunch, showered, and tried to sleep.

The next two days seemed to last forever.

Thursday wasn't much better as far as her nerves went, but at least most of her students showed up for class. They were much more energetic than they usually were probably due to the bonfire; the Cullen's were also exceptionally smiley. Even Jasper, who usually didn't speak much during her morning class, answered a few questions and she remembered having an overwhelming sense of calm after he had finished speaking.

She'd been fretting over Carlisle again but in that moment none of it seemed to matter and she'd lost track of her lesson for a few minutes. She got her head back together in time for her next classes and again was met with an exuberant Alice bouncing into the room and grinning at her. Edward and Bella had shrugged, almost in apology, and Esme wondered if Carlisle had indeed told his children about their date on Saturday.

Friday dragged because, as Jacob had implied, most of the school slept through their alarms after being out at the La Push bonfire all night. The other teachers, who had expected the sharp drop in attendance, seemed to think it was a nice break, and though it let Esme catch up on her marking, it also gave her far too much time to think about Saturday, which only served to make her anxious.

By the time school ended that afternoon Esme was ready for the weekend. She needed the break, some time to think, get her head cleared, and apparently spend time with a very lovely man with a very nice car . . .

* * *

 **A/N:** Okay, okay, I know this isn't the date. I apologize profusely, but it's getting there, I promise. It's literally the next chapter, which I totally intended to have written already, only I underestimated by ability to work nights and still function as a normal human being. I'm finishing my nursing degree and this was the first week of a two week night push. In case anyone is wondering about my cognitive abilities after a 12 hour overnight shift, I have two pages of this story typed and saved, some of which might be in a dead language, cause hell if I can understand what my sleep deprived brain was writing.


	9. Chapter 9

That was the first thing Esme thought as Carlisle pulled up in front of her building in the early afternoon on Saturday—that he had a very nice car. Granted, she knew next to nothing about cars, though she could tell by the sleek shine of the exterior, the dark tinted windows, and the low hum that this was on the list of vehicles she'd never own, never mind drive.

Carlisle stepped out of the car before she reached the sidewalk and came around to meet her.

"Hello," he said.

"Hi, Carlisle."

He smiled when she said his name, full and beaming, and the sight almost took her breath away. He was dressed casually, but smartly. His usual slacks had been exchanged for a pair of dark wash jeans and he wore a maroon sweater beneath a thin black jacket. She wondered if he was cold as she shivered in her own coat. It was thicker, more appropriate for the cold winter weather, and she shrugged inside the sleeves, feeling the silk of her blouse cling to the fabric.

She'd been on the phone with Sarah for the better part of last night. Her friend was something of a fashionista and now most of Esme's closet was still piled on her bedroom floor. They'd finally decided on a skirt and chunky black boots, though Esme has slipped on a pair of thicker nylons this morning because she'd rather be practical and not freeze.

As Carlisle met her on the sidewalk, he hesitated for a moment, like he wanted to reach out and touch her, but thinking twice about it, he simply pulled her door open and waited for her to get into the car.

The inside of the car was even more impressive than the exterior and she took a moment to consider the beat-up condition of her own used car before deciding that it had character and good gas mileage so that was good enough for her.

The roads were clear, though the ice still clung to the tree branches, but the interior of the car was pleasantly warm.

Even the seats seemed to be warmed and she sunk back, immediately at ease.

Carlisle slipped back into the drivers seat, smiling over at her before turning the key. He leaned back easily, one hand on the steering wheel, then said, "Shall we?"

"Of course," Esme said. He pulled away from the curb and they rolled through town. The houses whipped by and it wasn't until they reached the highway that Esme realized just how fast they were moving. She'd been sort of distracted up until that point, by . . . well, who wouldn't be distracted by Carlisle Cullen?

He must have noticed the look of shock on her face because he frowned as she watched the speedometer climb.

"You drive awfully fast," she said. She was holding the door handle and wondered when she'd reached for it.

"I'm sorry," Carlisle responded and his speed dropped dramatically. So much that her stomach lurched.

His hand drifted up in front of her, almost to brace her as the car slowed, though he never actually touched her.

"I didn't mean to frighten you."

He seemed genuinely displeased with himself, so Esme shook her head. "You didn't. Not really, I just hadn't realized how fast you were going at first."

He nodded like he understood, fiddling with the wheel and scanning the road ahead. She watched him fidget for a moment, eyes keeping close watch over the speedometer. She couldn't help the giggle that ran up her throat at the sight of his slightly pursed lips. "This is really bothering you, isn't it? Slowing down."

The corners of his mouth twitched. "How can you tell?"

She shook her head and looked out the window. They passed a highway sign warning about serious fines for speeding and when Esme quirked her brow at him, Carlisle laughed loudly. It was a deep belly kind of sound. Beautiful and tenor.

She was struck by just how much she liked making him laugh, especially like that. How easy it had been just now between them.

They passed the drive, which took much less than the expected hour, exchanging small talk and pleasantries. He asked about her work. She asked about his. He talked a bit about his children which was information she hadn't even realized she was eager for.

"Alice spent most of the day in my closet," Carlisle confessed. "I think I'll be hanging up sweaters for days."

Esme laughed. "I have a friend like her. And I too will be rearranging my closet for the rest of the weekend.

"Well, you look lovely," he told her.

She felt the blush but was powerless to stop it and averted her eyes to her hands where they laid in her lap. "Thank you." When she felt the heat in her cheeks recede, she moved the topic away from wardrobes before she made some insane comment about how nice he looked in those jeans. "So, what did the kids have to say about our coffee date today?"

"Truthfully, they were much more enthusiastic than I anticipated. And I hoped they would behave themselves at school. It made me rather nervous. Alice can be . . . overwhelming at times and Emmett doesn't always think before he speaks."

"They were rather smiley," Esme told him. "But perfectly well behaved, as per usual."

Carlisle sighed dramatically to make her laugh. "That's a small relief then."

They arrived in Port Angeles and Carlisle found a vacant spot on a side-street just off the main shopping strip which was overflowing with cafes and antique book stores.

He parked and stepped out, reaching her side of the car and opening the door before Esme had even begun to move. At first she was surprised at his speed, but his endearing smile just made her shake her head as she accepted his offered hand and stepped out of the car.

"What is it?" he asked, eyes bright and curious.

She stared into them for a moment, feeling slightly dazed. "Nothing . . . it's just. You're like someone who stepped out of time. People—men—don't really act this way anymore."

"They should," Carlisle said.

"I guess chivalry isn't dead yet. Speeding aside."

Carlisle laughed, stepping close to her as they made their way down the side walk towards the smell of coffee. "I'm never going to hear the end of that one, am I?"

"I don't know how you didn't get a ticket," Esme confessed. "Have you ever gotten a ticket?"

"If I say no, does that make the situation better or worse?"

Esme narrowed her eyes slightly, but she was smiling. "To be determined."

They found a small little place with a coffee bean in the cafe name and a bunch of fair trade signs in the window. The interior was cozy, with low yellow lighting and brown and beige accented walls that set off the chrome tabletops well.

They ordered drinks. Carlisle payed. He insisted.

She didn't fight him on it. Didn't feel the need to defend the fact that she could very well pay for her own drink. Somehow she didn't feel threatened in that way by him. The way she had so often felt threatened by Charles as their relationship began to break down.

It felt so easy with Carlisle. She shook that thought off, accepting her green tea with honey. It was only a coffee date—well, tea date now that he had one too; she had to stop reading so much into her feelings. It was too soon for these kinds of things. She knew better now than to jump into love because of butterflies. Sometimes those flutters in your gut weren't butterflies, but moths, and they were telling you to keep your distance.

So why did she find it so difficult with Carlisle?

He placed his hand on the small of her back, guiding her towards a booth at the back of the shop. It was sheltered, with high-backed seating and plush cushions. Unless someone came to inquire about a refill, they'd be relatively uninterrupted.

She slipped into the booth, and to her surprise, he didn't cross over to the other side as propriety might suggest, but instead slid in beside her. He made sure to leave room between them, enough that they could still easily talk to each other, but if his leg brushed hers every so often, well, she didn't actually mind.

"This place is charming," Esme said, looking around.

"Alice said you had an eye for interior design."

"And old architecture," Esme added. "There's something about old buildings with modern interiors that fascinate me."

Carlisle nodded. "I spent some of my youth in Europe, and quite agree. There's nothing like walking the old cobblestone streets or exploring an old cathedral."

"Oh, I'd love to go overseas someday. Where did you stay?"

"I was born in England, actually. I did some travelling as I got older."

Esme gaped. "You were? How long did you live there before coming to the States? I can't hear an accent at all."

"For quite a while actually, but lots of practice and you can hardly tell anymore. My kids laugh at me sometimes when the accent comes through. Usually when I'm telling Emmett off for saying something obscene."

Esme snorted as she sipped her tea. "Shall I be expecting some sort of inappropriate outburst from him in class?"

Carlisle considered it. "I think Rosalie and Jasper will keep him in line. They're good like that."

"I still can't believe you're from overseas. Do you visit often? Do you have family there?"

"I haven't been back in a long time. I'd very much consider here home now. It was really just me and my parents, both of whom are gone now."

Esme nodded. "I'm sorry."

Carlisle waved it off. "That was also a long time ago. It feels like another lifetime almost." He smirked, but mostly to himself as he stirred his drink.

Esme took a sip of her tea, letting the warmth fill her. Carlisle regarded her and she could feel the blush rise up her neck.

She shook her hair out, trying to hide what was so plainly obvious, but Carlisle didn't seem bothered. In fact, he leaned closer, both elbows on the table.

"I have so many questions for you," he confessed. "An illogical amount, considering we haven't known each other all that long."

Esme felt her heartbeat pick up.

"Does that make you nervous?" he wondered.

She took another slow sip of her drink. How had he known? "Not exactly."

"You hesitated," Carlisle pointed out gently.

She had this insane desire to be honest with him, like she'd know him for years, not weeks. Like she wanted him to know her as much as she wanted to know him. But as much as she wanted him to know about her past, it still felt dangerous and risky.

"I—" she began, trying to figure out how best to answer.

"How about," he suggested, "if you don't like my question, simply say pass, and I'll ask another."

He was giving her an out.

"Alright," Esme agreed, "but only if the questions continue both ways."

"I'll accept that," Carlisle said. He settled back in the booth, though his hand rested close to hers on the table. "And seeing as we've already talked about my childhood home. Where did you grow up?"

She grinned. That was an easy one. "Columbus, Ohio."

Carlisle smiled. "I spent time in Columbus. For a medical conference a few years back before I had the kids."

Esme considered that. She had most likely left Columbus by that point and probably would have been in Ashland with Charles. If Carlisle had gone to university right after high school and then medical school and then some sort of residency program he really couldn't have been practicing medicine for that long, could he? He didn't look old enough. Nor did that leave a lot of time to be adopting kids.

"When did the children come into your life?" she wondered, trying to piece it together.

He hesitated with an answer.

"I only ask because it seems like your life would have been very busy with medical school. I know I certainly would never have been able to manage the lives of a bunch of children while I was in teacher's college."

"Sometimes it feels like forever ago," Carlisle said, though he didn't expand.

She watched him with an eager curiosity as he ran his fingers back through his hair.

"How old are you exactly?" Esme didn't know what made her ask it. But really she wasn't sure. Sometimes he seemed impossibly young—pale and porcelain and perfect. And sometimes she'd catch a glimpse of him and he looked wise beyond his years, eyes full of experiences she could never hope to understand. But that was foolish.

Carlisle leaned closer, like it was a secret. "Thirty three."

Esme waited for him to ask his next question but he seemed to be lingering.

"Does that question go both ways?" she wondered.

"If you don't mind. I'd always been told it was impolite to ask a woman her age."

Esme felt her cheeks twitch. "Well I'll bite, but only because you're older than me by two years."

"Ah, well, to be honest that went a lot smoother than I anticipated. I thought I might be wading into dangerous territory."

"It's true," Esme said. "We women like to keep the age thing quiet. But since you were so forthcoming, I thought I'd respond in kind."

They continued like that for a while, throwing out small, inconsequential questions. Favourite colour. Favourite kind of music. Places they wanted to travel. Things they thought about doing in the future. It was an easy conversation, like they'd been having it for years.

Then he threw her.

"Have you ever been in love before?"

Esme felt the corners of her eyes twitch. This coffee date had moved from easy and carefree to very personal in a very short amount of time and her mind was struggling to keep up with her body. Everything inside her told her to tell him, to just let it all out, that it would be nice to have someone who knew. Who might be able to understand. She didn't know why she felt this way about Carlisle. Why she desired to throw herself into his arms? Why she felt so out of control when he lingered near her?

But the logical part of her mind told her body to shut up and that if she revealed too much she could very well send him running. After all, she had run from Charles in the end. What would stop Carlisle from running from her? Still, Esme couldn't quite pass on the question.

"I thought I was. Once," she said and he seemed to consider that for a while, though he didn't pry further and for that she was grateful. "What about you?" she asked quietly.

"Never," Carlisle said.

She arched her brow. "I find that hard to believe. No high school crush? No young love?"

He shook his head. "I took my studies very seriously and they occupied so much of my time."

"I can imagine," Esme said. "Medical school must have been gruelling."

"I don't think I ever slept," he joked.

She chuckled.

"If I can be brutally honest," he began, "I thought I was meant to be alone. I loved my work, healing people, helping them. It wasn't until my family came into my life that I realized what I had been missing. The loneliness had become such a part of my existence that it was hard to recognize it anymore."

Esme smiled sadly. Perhaps he could relate. Especially if he had felt as alone as she had all those years. "Well, I'm very happy you found each other then."

Carlisle smiled softly. "I've been very lucky in my life."

She stared at him, slightly awed by his presence, both by just his nearness, and the fact that the more she learned about him the more captivating he became. His kindness. His spirit. His strength. His golden eyes seemed to twinkle at her and she blinked, remembering something. She looked down at her tea.

"What is it?"

When she looked up he was close again, and she studied those rich golden eyes. "It's just, your eyes. They were darker the last time we met."

He pulled his gaze away suddenly.

"I'm sorry, did I say something—"

"No," Carlisle said quickly. "Of course not. I just suppose there are things that I would pass on as well. At least for a little while longer. I wouldn't want to scare you away so soon."

"Oh," Esme said. She wasn't sure what to make of that, but again his honesty caught her off guard and she felt herself drifting closer to him, both in the booth and on some emotional level she couldn't quite grasp yet.

Carlisle spun his cup in his hands. Then he looked at her and she was almost bowled over by the intensity of his gaze.

"Promise me," he said, "that if I do something or say something to upset you, that you'll tell me. That you'll afford me a second chance." He gestured to the cafe. "I confess I am very new to this whole concept."

"Oh, Carlisle," she hurried to reassure him, "I'm having a lovely time." And that was the truth. Despite the difficulty she had with her past, this right now, today, had been perfect.

And continued to be.

They left the cafe after awhile and walked along the shopping strip, continuing their conversation. They danced around the difficult topics, but never struggled to find something new to talk about. Before Esme realized, the sun had set and she found herself walking very close to Carlisle. He slowed, matching her pace, and with a brush of his fingers against her wrist, reached out to take her hand.

* * *

 **A/N** : And so, it begins. Part II might get posted tomorrow, if I get my life sorted out before my night shift. lol


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** So . . . hi again. It's me. This is kind of late/delayed/whatever you want to call it because working full time sucks. Like I don't know how functioning adults do it everyday. I can't . . . like I think I might die. Cause after a 12 hour shift all I want to do is sleep. So, anyway, I'm off for 2 days so have a chapter :) Also, I apologize in advance . . . it's gonna get a little angsty for a couple chapters because, like, why not?

* * *

As far as first dates went, Carlisle thought his coffee date was a continuing success. He didn't have much knowledge to go on, seeing as mated vampires tended not to go on coffee dates—more like prolonged hunting excursions in Africa or the Arctic. But still, Carlisle considered himself a man of science, and in the nature of scientific discovery, most of his research had been compiled from those tentative few months Edward skirted the human issue with Bella before transforming her. But even that only took him so far considering he'd known Esme—known of her existence at the very least—for more than a few months now.

How he had managed to keep himself away from her—to stay distanced enough not to overwhelm her—was beyond him. And the longer he was in her company, the more he thought about how he was supposed to ever let her go again.

There was a startling honesty brewing between them, and though part of him feared revealing so much to her so quickly, he also knew that honesty was the only thing that would make whatever was happening between them possible.

This woman had taken him completely by surprise, but the feelings that he'd fought to understand were now alarmingly clear. She was the one he'd always been waiting for. It had taken the better part of three centuries for him to find her, so regardless of what now stood in their way as far as her human life, he wasn't going to let her slip away.

He'd never understood what exactly had bound Edward so resolutely to Bella, seeing as she was not a vampire when they met, but now he did. If it was anything compared to the way he felt about Esme, he could see exactly how he'd risked everything for her.

Carlisle didn't think that kind of connection could manifest so potently in a pair when one of them was human. He'd thought Edward had been the exception—his oddly sensitive son.

He knew of vampires that took humans as their mates, transforming them out of ease and comfort, as a sort of companion, but he didn't want just a companion in Esme. He didn't just want someone to help ease the last of his loneliness.

He wanted a life with her—no, he wanted an immortality with her. He wanted innumerable lifetimes to learn her. To love her.

And that was why, despite leaving the cafe and the paper cups behind, he wasn't quite ready to let the night end.

Carlisle reached down and took her hand. It was instinctual, taking her hand and pulling her closer as darkness set in.

To his immediate surprise, she didn't fight him. She didn't even baulk at the chill of his hand, just curled her fingers through his, like they belonged there. Like they were made to fit. The sensation sent a strange thrill coursing through his long dormant veins.

"Are you hungry?" He watched her expression shift in the low lights that reflected off the store fronts, painting pools of gold into the sidewalk. "I know I only asked you to coffee," he explained, "but I've had a wonderful afternoon and would very much like it to continue over dinner."

Esme grinned at him and again he was bowled over at just how much he liked that feeling—making her smile. How much of a thrill it was to see her happy in his company. She had a certain charm and sweetness about her; it was magnetic and he found himself longing for more time with her, praying she'd say yes.

She bit the edge of her lip, contemplating his question, but nodded easily and Carlisle had to fight the desire to scoop her into his arms. She was rather adorable like this—shy and contemplative, although he already knew she could be feisty and funny.

He also knew there were broken pieces there—a past full of pain. After spending so much time around humans, pretending to be something he wasn't, he'd learned to read them. But that didn't scare him. It didn't even make him think twice. He wanted to be the one to heal her. Perhaps she'd even let him.

"Do you have a preference?" Carlisle wondered, gesturing down the block. There was an Italian place on the corner that seemed to be rather popular.

"How about that one?" Esme said. She pointed across the street to a smaller place. It had a wall of ivy and a glass sun room set up on the edge of the restaurant with tables and chairs arranged in neat little blocks. "We can see the stars while we eat," she mused.

"Perfect," Carlisle said, though he doubted he'd be able to pull himself away from her long enough to notice any stars.

They crossed the street between a break in the traffic and headed towards the restaurant. They passed a post office and an eclectic housewares shop. Then they turned the corner and passed the front of a pub—The Poacher's Arm—which had football playing on the screens mounted above the bar inside.

The smell of beer and grease was heavy, as was the smell of garbage as they shifted through the little alley at the side of the pub, cutting towards the restaurant.

As they cut through, a rowdy group of men burst through the back door, wheezing and laughing. They steadied themselves, noting company, and Carlisle felt Esme shrink against his side.

One of the men stuck his fingers in his mouth and whistled in their direction. Carlisle glanced across to the group, paying them real attention for the first time.

There were six of them. Burly and drunk and belligerent. They called out, winking at Esme, and the flare of anger that bloomed inside his chest made him want to shake with the sheer force of it. He'd never experienced a protective instinct like this one, even in relation to his children. Not one this strong.

His grip tightened on Esme's hand, not enough to hurt her, but enough to keep her close as a few of the men broke from the group, heading in their direction. It would have been easy, Carlisle thought, to whisk them from the alley, but he'd have to move quickly—too quickly—and he'd leave an array of witnesses, no matter their state of inebriation. Rumours would start and the last thing he wanted right now was to draw attention that the Volturi though worth investigating. Besides, he could feel the thready pulse in Esme's wrist, hear the unsteady breaths she sucked into her lungs. She was already frightened. He wouldn't scare her anymore tonight.

"Hey Princess!"

"No, no, no," she murmured behind him, so low it was barely a word.

Carlisle let his thumb drift over her skin in calm strokes, stepping in front of her as to shield her from sight.

"Good evening, gentlemen," Carlisle said as the three men approached. "We're just passing through."

"That so?" one of the men said. He smelled of whiskey and lime and battered fish. His jeans were grease stained. His hands rough and calloused. A working man. Hard working most likely. To support a family that could never quite make ends meet. He'd probably gone out tonight to blow off some steam. And now he was drunk and worked up and set to make a very bad decision.

"We'll be on our way, gentlemen."

"Hold up," the man said, throwing his arm out, into Carlisle's chest. The alcohol was probably the only thing that stopped the man from feeling just how hard his hand had hit, from feeling the vibrations shoot up his wrist. From noticing that Carlisle had not even flinched at the touch. "Who's that you got there?"

Carlisle took the man's hand from his chest, peeling it away with ease.

"You should go," he said and his eyes narrowed, hard and fierce and he could feel those predatory instincts flair up his spine, but unlike when he hunted, this time he had the overwhelming urge to protect.

He caught the man's hand and squeezed. He could feel the bones shift under his touch, feel the splinters begin. The man shuddered and stumbled back, letting out an audible groan.

When Carlisle released him, the man grasped his arm to his chest, shaking as her slipped on the gravel beneath his feet in his haste to move. The other men flanking him backed away, slowly at first, then at a sprint, fear evident in their faces.

Esme was still pressed in tight to his side. He tucked his arm around her as his phone started to ring. He answered it without looking at the display.

"Hello, Alice."

"Are you two okay?"

"Yes."

Alice paused. "Is Esme okay?"

He considered this. He could feel her shaking against him. "To be determined."

Alice made a sad little sound into the phone. "I'm sorry I didn't warn you earlier, I just saw."

"Alice, this is not on you. I'll talk to you when I get home."

Carlisle hung up and tucked his phone into his pocket. Beside him Esme had gone impossibly still and he glanced over to find her gasping silently.

"Esme? Esme, breathe." He looked around, spying a bench against the low stone wall that curved around the alley, holding back a small, snow covered bank.

He guided Esme over to the bench with a hand on her back and helped her sit.

"Esme?" he said again.

She looked at him, but it was like she was looking past him, and when he moved his hand near her face to tuck her hair behind her ear, she flinched.

Her breathing changed to short, gasping breaths.

She was having a panic attack. He pressed his hands against her arms, supporting her trembling frame. "Esme, look at me. That's it. I want you to take a slow, deep breath, okay?"

He waited for her to comply.

"And again. Good. That's really good." She shuddered in his arms and he held her tighter. "You're safe here. Nothing can hurt you. It's only your fear. It's making your heart pound harder but you're heart is actually fine."

She nodded, her head falling against his chest.

He brushed his hand over the back of her head, feeling the silk of her hair as it threaded through his fingers. For a few moments he was content to brush through her hair. When her breathing was calm and steady he pulled back, searching for her eyes. "Are you okay?"

"I'm sorry."

"Esme, don't apologize."

She dropped her head into her hands and he could hear the sob she tried to hide.

"Come," he said gently. "I'll take you home."

* * *

Esme remembered very little of the walk back to the car. For all she knew Carlisle had carried her there. Her mind was still somewhere far away, caught up in feelings. Some were plain and obvious and expected. Fear. Panic. Anger.

She'd been afraid of those men. Those men who reminded her so much of Charles. She'd been afraid because there had been six of them and despite Carlisle standing in front of her, the odds were not in their favour. So she'd panicked, like she so often did when things like this happened, when she was reminded of the man she worked so hard to escape from. And she'd recognized the anger in herself. She was angry that she'd let herself feel this way.

That even now, tucked into Carlisle's car, she was still afraid.

She wondered if she would ever stop being afraid.

But there were other emotions there, swirling around inside her head. These ones were more unclear, harder to make out, but the more she thought about them, the more she understood them.

Carlisle had chased the men away somehow. She didn't know why they'd reacted so viscerally to this one man, but hey had, like he'd terrified them.

Like they were running for their lives. Like they were being hunted.

But that didn't make sense. She shook her head. She was grateful to Carlisle. Truly. Though somehow intrigued and curious and maybe, possibly . . . afraid of him.

But was she really afraid of him?

Or was she just confused?

Maybe she afraid of the unknown?

But what was unknown?

Her eyes fluttered closed. There was something about this man. Something strange. She just couldn't sort it out right now. Perhaps tomorrow—

"You're freezing," he said, squeezing her fingers gently.

She blinked, startled, and looked over at him. "Am I?" She couldn't tell. He drove with one hand, the other fiddled with some of the knobs and buttons on the dashboard. And he watched her more than the road.

It should have unnerved her, but it really didn't.

Again, something about him, something that she'd been denying all this time, told her he didn't need to watch the road the way she did. That he could drive impossibly fast and she would be safe with him. She sucked in warm air.

That was partly it.

She didn't know what was going on with him, but she felt safe with him.

The drive home was shorter than the drive to Port Angeles. Knowing this, Esme didn't even bother to check Carlisle's speed. Or think too hard about how fast he moved around the car to open her door when they arrived at her apartment.

He was silent as he walked her upstairs.

"Are you okay?" he murmured when they stopped in front of her door.

She fished around in her coat pocket for her keys. "Yes," she said, staring at the chipped wooden door frame. "Thank you for a lovely afternoon."

"Esme—"

She turned to him, looked into his face, then looked away. There was curiosity and worry there. Emotions she wanted to sink into. Arms she wanted to sink into. But she couldn't do that. Not now. Not to him.

"Please," he began.

She pushed the keys into the lock, squeezing harder than she needed to. "Carlisle. I had a lovely time. Truly. All things considered. But . . ." she exhaled deeply, "you don't want to be involved with me. My past . . . it's messy and not quite in the past yet. And you seem like a wonderful man with a great family and I just . . . it's not fair to you."

He reached for her other hand, the one that wasn't clinging to the lock for support. "Trust me, Esme. You're not the only one with secrets."

She looked at him then, let her self consider it for just a moment—her and him in something that resembled happiness. "Secrets don't scare me, Carlisle."

He traced his thumb over her knuckles. "But something does."

"Yes." She looked down and studied her hand, that cool place that rose up beneath his chilled fingers. "Someone."

"Who is he?"

Esme shuddered. Already she felt like she'd let too much slip. "Please just leave it. You're a good man, Carlisle. You don't need to be caught up in this."

"But what if I'm not?"

"Not what?"

"Not good. Not this hero you think I am?"

Esme laughed gently. "So you're telling me you're the villain?"

"The monster," Carlisle corrected.

Esme shook her head. "I've known monsters, Carlisle. You're not one."

"But what if I was?"

"I don't believe it."

He pressed the back of his hand to her cheek and she shivered. "May I see you again?"

She knew she should say no. Charles was a complication. She—with her nightmares and panic attacks—was a complication. Even Carlisle himself was a mystery that could turn into a complication. And she didn't know if she could handle it all. So in her head she said no, but what came out, strangely instead, was: "Yes."

"Tomorrow?" he pleaded.

She nodded and then let herself into the apartment. She didn't hear as he walk away and she wondered if he lingered on the other side of the door. She did for a time, but eventually pulled herself away towards bed.

She dreamed that night. For the first time in a long time it wasn't about Charles, but something else entirely. Something like the dream she had the night Jacob had told her of the Quileute legends. Those same pale creatures appeared between the trees, only this time she recognized a face. It was Carlisle, with his deep, gold eyes, staring back at her.

She gasped, racing backwards through the trees, but as fast as she ran, he was faster. And still something else crawled out of the shadows—something dark, with sharp canines and long fur.

It tore off past her, chasing the pale figure through the trees and her heart hammered, not in fear for herself, but for the creature that now ran for its life.

She shook her head and ran faster.

Jacob said the Cullen's didn't go down to La Push. They weren't welcomed there.

Jacob had told her about the Cold Ones. Their inhuman beauty. Their cold, pale skin.

He'd told her about the ancient wolves that rose up to defend the tribe from slaughter. From the blood drinkers.

From Carlisle? From what he was?

No, she thought. He couldn't be.

But her mind raced as the vision beside her blurred. He'd driven those men off tonight with ease, and when he'd turned to her, he'd looked like an animal . . . not an animal, a predator. A hunter. His eyes had been almost black when he'd turned to look at her after chasing them away. Dark and wild. Hungry.

She bolted up in bed, a cold sweat making her shirt stick to her skin.

She pressed her hand to her chest, holding the point above her racing pulse.

Carlisle was a Cold One.

Carlisle was a vampire.

And she was falling in love with him. Maybe she already was.

She pressed her fists against her eyes, rubbing the revelation away. Impossible. It was impossible.

But was it?


	11. Chapter 11

Carlisle walked slowly up his driveway. He'd purposely parked at the end of the long, winding drive and moved at a frustratingly human pace. He needed to think before he reached the house. Before his family, well meaning and concerned, descended upon his already tangled thoughts and feelings.

It wasn't often that he found himself at a crossroads of the heart—perhaps when he was dealing with a particularly difficult patient case—but his feelings for Esme were an entirely different matter.

When they parted last night, he knew he'd left her with more questions than answers, and though she tried to push him away in that moment, he'd been insistent because he knew he could be good for her, if she'd only let him. And though she'd agreed last night, now things were different.

He'd driven over to her apartment just before noon. It was Sunday and the traffic was light. Just the usual church-goers and the odd person out for groceries before Sunday dinner. He'd parked in front of her building and bounded up the stairs three at a time. Not quite human, but close enough for anyone that was watching too closely.

He had stood outside her door, oddly nervous, and knocked.

And knocked.

And knocked.

She hadn't answered.

But he knew very well she was inside.

He could hear the steady thrum of her heart, the pulse racing the longer his pleas went unanswered. He could hear her raspy breath. The shuddering inhale. The patchy exhale.

Smell the chamomile she steeped for her tea.

Hear the shrug of yarn against her skin as she pulled a blanket around her shoulders.

She was ignoring him. And it was then that he knew, or at least, he suspected that she'd figured something out. Perhaps not exactly the right thing, but it was enough to scare her.

He had backed away from the door slowly, hands in his pockets. It felt like defeat, leaving her there. But he promised himself that he wouldn't hurt her, so he walked away from her, got back into his car, and drove home.

And now he was here, in the very place he had started, with nothing but questions and very few answers. And the one person who could give him the answers he so desperately sought, hid herself away from him.

Carlisle hadn't forgotten what he had seen at the hospital that day he treated her. In fact, it was often on his mind, thrumming somewhere in the back, like a broken record he meant to fix as soon as he learned how. It was clear to him, now more than ever, that Esme has escaped from something, or maybe she was still running. Either way, he wasn't going anywhere. Not unless she told him to. And though there was presently an entire town between them, he was choosing to take her dismissal as a plea for space and not for separation.

He wanted what Alice had promised him. He wanted to look at Esme and see forever. But how could he ask her to accept him, in this life?

He didn't know what he was going to do about it, he only knew that he was going to try. He had to. And the only way he could possibly do that was to arm himself with information. He had to know what she was running from. He had to understand. The only way he could hope for her to understand him was if he understood her. If he could show her that she had nothing to fear from him.

He owed it to her to let her tell him . . . but he also owed it to his family, and whatever life he might have with Esme, to protect them and her, especially if it was him putting them all in danger.

These thoughts led Carlisle up the front porch and he braced himself as he turned the doorknob. However, once inside, his children remained scarce and he mentally thanked Edward.

The boy appeared at the top of the stairs, nodding to his unspoken thoughts.

"We can go hunting," he offered. "If you need space."

"I don't mean to chase you all from the house," Carlisle said, waving off Edward's offer. "Besides, I think I've sulked enough. Now I just want to understand."

"She's scared," Edward reasoned. "That must be it."

"A much more realistic reaction than Bella," Rosalie said, appearing from down the hall. She reached out and touched Carlisle's arm. "That can only be a good sign. It means everything is working right upstairs."

She tapped her temple for emphasis.

Carlisle smiled at her. There was a time in their relationship when Rosalie couldn't even bear to look at him. They'd come so far since then.

"Thank you, Rosalie. I suppose Bella's acceptance of us was part of what made her so remarkable as a human."

"I quite agree," Edward said. He sat on the bottom step, looking smug.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and Carlisle crossed the living room, leaving them to bicker. It wasn't a normal day if Edward and Rosalie weren't snapping at each other.

"Jasper," he said, waiting for his newest son to look up from his chess game with Alice. "I need a favour."

Jasper nodded. "How thorough do you want it?"

Again Carlisle was thankful for Alice's foresight. The last thing he wanted to say right now was that he needed a background search on the woman he'd fallen madly in love with because she was too afraid of him to open the door. "Just the basics for now."

Jasper took Alice's hand, leading her from the room. "Give me thirty minutes."

Alice smiled and looked over her shoulder. "Seventeen."

That gave Carlisle just enough time to slip upstairs and change. He hadn't intended on going into the hospital today, but he did have patients to round on if he wasn't busy, and at this point he could use the distraction. Anything to stop him thinking about Esme. Though that in itself would be a miracle.

Upstairs, he stepped into the shower, let the warmth permeate his body, then towelled off and dressed in fresh slacks and a shirt. He was just doing up his tie when Alice called him down to the kitchen.

He fastened his tie, slipped into his shoes, and found his briefcase on the way downstairs.

By the time he reached the kitchen, the others had emerged, hovering on the outskirts of the room.

Alice sat in front of the laptop Jasper had used, drumming her fingers over the keyboard. These were the kinds of things that made her intensely impatient. At this point she probably wanted him and Esme together as much as he did. She patted the chair next to her and Carlisle sat. Jasper returned to the room with freshly printed papers arranged in a series of folders—Carlisle could still smell the ink.

Jasper placed a red file on the table first, then cleared his throat. "Born Esme Anne Platt. Grew up on a farm belonging to her grandparents on the outskirts of Columbus, Ohio. Went to university where she majored in English studies with a minor in art. Attended teachers college shortly after. Then moved to Ashland, Wisconsin."

Carlisle followed along with the paper inside the file. Jasper swallowed hard and dropped another file in front of him. "Married a Charles Evenson when she was twenty-six. That's where the trouble started."

Carlisle flipped through those pages, pausing to study the image of a man. He had dark features and a suave smile.

Another file dropped and Jasper continued. "There were a series of domestic calls placed to the local police in Ashland. No charges ever filed. And her medical records are here. You'd know better than I, but all the call signs are there for abuse. Injuries with unknown origin. Accidents. She suffered a miscarriage close to two years ago now. Followed by an emergency hysterectomy."

"Looks like a case of battered woman syndrome," Edward said, studying the information over Carlisle's shoulder. "She'd probably get close to leaving, then he'd say something right, or do something nice, and he'd drag her right back into it again. That's most likely why no charges were ever laid."

Jasper shrugged. "It's all in there in detail, but that's the summary."

"So she's still married?" Carlisle said, feeling his fingers curl at the thought of Esme still being tied to the man who had hurt her like this.

"In the middle of a messy divorce by the looks of things," Jasper explained. "The ex is being difficult."

"It's why she ran," Carlisle guessed. "Why she turned up in this sleepy little town."

"Poor thing," Bella said, wandering over to study the picture of Charles with a look of disdain. "Can't we help her somehow?"

"We could just kill him," Rosalie offered. She leaned casually against the wall, hands tucked behind her back.

"Rose!" Edward and Bella hissed together.

Rosalie rolled her eyes and moved towards them. "It's the most efficient way of dealing with this. You know it is. Trust me, I've been there. There's only one way to handle a person like Charles Evenson."

Emmett crossed the room from where he had been hovering in the doorway, wrapping his arms around her waist from behind and dropping his chin against her shoulder. "I'm in," he said.

"No, Esme would be heartbroken to know that one of us did that," Alice said. Her eyes flickered briefly, dropping her somewhere far away. "Or at least she will be, when she gets to know us."

Jasper shrugged. "We don't have to tell her. Accidents happen to humans all the time."

Carlisle shook his head. "No." He wouldn't do that. He wouldn't let any of them compromise the progress they'd made, no matter how good their intentions. He wanted Charles to pay more than anyone, but there were ways that didn't involve murder.

"Then just turn her," Rosalie said. "Then it doesn't matter what the bastard does."

"We can't just turn her right now. She's too tied up in the town. We'd have to make excuses. We'd have to leave. It would be too conspicuous," Edward argued.

"This coming from the guy who caused all sorts of conspicuous drama when he fell for a human?"

Emmett snorted. "She has you there, Eddie-boy."

"Enough," Carlisle said, before they could really get going. "I can't turn her just because I want to keep her safe; it has to be her choice when the time is right. And that is definitely not now. Right now she won't even agree to see me."

"She's frightened," Alice said. "Who wouldn't be?"

Rosalie nodded at Bella. "That one, but I knew she had a couple screws loose to agree to date Edward anyway."

An empty flower vase soared at Rosalie from across the room. She caught it easily and placed it on the unused china hutch.

"Enough, please," Carlisle sighed, pressing his fingers to his eyes.

"What are you going to do?" Edward wondered.

"I'm going to get ready for work."

"That's it?"

"What can I do? Until she agrees to see me or talk to me . . . I just have to wait." And he could do it. He'd waited this long for her. What was a little longer?


	12. Chapter 12

When Esme woke Monday morning there was a tight ball of nerves in her gut. It had started yesterday, started the moment Carlisle Cullen had knocked on her door. It was by some miracle that she didn't drop her mug of tea all over the kitchen floor.

She had stared at the door handle, holding tight to her mug, and then finally turned away from it. She'd let him knock yesterday, pretended she wasn't home, though some part of her sensed he could tell.

Carlisle hadn't lingered and she didn't hear from him again, but it hurt to push him away. Something inside her ached at the thought of him standing there, waiting on her, with no response. At the same time it was the only thing that had made sense to her, because what she now thought she knew made absolutely no sense.

She'd gone mad in the short time since seeing him. That was the only explanation.

Her fear of Charles had driven her to illogical and impossible theories about a man who had asked her out for coffee. And no one deserved to be dragged inside her head right now—the one that was crammed with nerves and fear and anger and panic and insane theories about blood drinking monsters.

She teared up again, dabbing at her eyes with her shirt sleeves as she packed her bag for the day. She really was losing it.

By the time Esme had made her way to school she was feeling better. But only slightly. The entire drive through the small, woodsy town brought back images from her dream. Pale faces between the trees. Large snarling creatures.

"Hey, you okay?"

Esme looked up suddenly, finding Tammi in one of her sleek black tracksuits, staring at her with concern. She was still sitting in the staff room, nursing a cup of earl grey.

"Yeah, just tired."

"Busy weekend?"

"Marking," Esme lied, because what was the alternative.

"Well, I'll see you at lunch. Coffee's on me, okay?"

"Thanks Tammi," Esme said. She forced a smile as she made her way upstairs to her classroom and hooked up the projector. She managed her way through her morning lessons and even faked her way through a lunch with Tammi and Jeremy, talking the newest PTA meeting details and midterms.

By the afternoon, she was exhausted. The effort of pretending that her mind wasn't a jumble of crazy thoughts was taxing, and the fact that she had to keep looking at Carlisle's children didn't help. She'd dealt with the morning by assigning an independent study period, but she couldn't do that with her juniors since they had a test coming up which required a review period.

Esme scanned the room after lunch. She'd been trying to avoid looking at that back corner, tried to avoid getting caught up in the strange beauty of the Cullen's as she so often did. Especially now, when she was trying to push Carlisle and her inane theories from her mind.

As class drew to an end her students started murmuring, antsy for the next period to start so the day could be over. Frankly, she was completely in agreement. She let them out five minutes early so she could clear her head.

"Miss Platt?"

She let her eyes flutter closed at the sound of that light, musical voice. It was Alice.

Esme swallowed hard, and forced herself to look up. Into those same rich, golden eyes.

Alice's brows drew together, the only imperfection on her seemingly perfect, porcelain face. "He's been so unhappy," she said. "You must know that."

"Alice, please . . ." Esme held her hand up. She couldn't do this. Not now.

"If you would just talk to him you'd see."

Edward tugged on her arm, but Alice threw him off easily, and it suddenly dawned on Esme: they were the same—pale and beautiful and not quite human. She breathed uneasily, stumbling against her chair. She was really losing it now.

Her eyes caught Edward's and he looked pained.

"You should tell him," Alice said. "You don't have to be afraid of him. Just . . . talk to him, no matter what it is you think."

Esme frowned. How did she know? It was like she could see into her mind. Into the confusion and mess that was her brain lately.

"Alice, let's go," Bella urged in a whisper.

"Please," Alice said. It was desperate in a way Esme couldn't imagine hearing and when she looked up again, the three of them were gone and she was alone.

Immediately Esme packed her things, went down to the office, and requested the rest of the day off. She couldn't be here.

Not right now.

* * *

She hid inside her apartment that night. She didn't go to work the next day. Or even the one after that. By Thursday the dreams were worse than ever and she was contemplating if she would ever return to work again.

She had a little money saved up now. She could . . . she could . . . She dropped her head into her hands and cried. She cried because she wanted Carlisle.

She wanted him even though she knew he was something else.

Something strange.

Something inhuman.

It was crazy, but even in her desperate attempts to clear away the insane theories, she knew she was right.

Carlisle was a vampire.

* * *

It was Friday afternoon before Esme checked her phone. She had a text message from Tammi wishing her a speedy recovery from whatever flu virus had knocked her out. She had a message from Jeremy inviting her to drinks tonight if she was feeling up for it. And she had six missed calls from Sarah; the accompanying messages grew progressively more worried and then Sarah started threatening bodily harm and police intervention. Esme sent her a quick text, telling her she was fine and that she'd call her later.

Sarah sent back a mess of emojis that Esme couldn't decipher in her current state, so instead she decided to shower because she couldn't remember when she'd last done that.

She let the water run until it was almost too hot to stand under and then closed the door, let the steam and citrus body wash envelop her, and just leaned against the wall while the water washed over her. Eventually she soaped up, scrubbed her hair, and brushed her teeth. She even broke out a new razor because that's what functioning adults did occasionally.

By the end she felt better—not great—but she'd at least determined that she was all cried out. And that there were lots of crazy people in the world. Just because she'd gone a little loopy lately didn't mean she couldn't go about her life as normal. People did it all the time.

So that's what she resolved to do. If she couldn't be normal, she would at least pretend she was. After her shower, she pulled on an old pair of grey checkered flannel pants and a black long sleeve shirt. It was cold. Or maybe it wasn't. Maybe she'd just been freezing for days.

Seeing as it was the weekend again and she'd neglected to go to work all week, she resolved to finish what marking she did have so she could get caught up when she returned to work on Monday. This was all in theory though, because when she returned to the living room to find her laptop, she paused. Someone was knocking on her door.

Her first thought was Carlisle and it sent both a thrill and a wave of anxiety through her. She could feel her heart thud against her ribs so hard she wondered if it might burst from her chest. Immediately all the feelings from the last week came rushing back and she felt her legs go out from under her. She grabbed the arm of the couch for support as she stared at the door.

"He—hello?" she called.

"Esme."

It was him. She reached up and put a hand over her face, massaging the space between her eyes. "Not now," she whispered.

"Esme, please."

"I can't." She stood up, crossing the room like she meant to run to him. Like she meant to tell him everything, to let him explain everything, but she paused in front of the door, that lock feeling like some insurmountable obstacle. Like the last defence between ignorance and the truth, whatever that might turn out to be.

"Tell me why?" he begged.

She laid her hand against the door, swallowing hard. "Because you're a vampire and I'm crazy."

"You're not crazy," he said.

The tears came quickly and she choked on her words. "I must be. I sound insane."

"Please open the door. Let me explain."

"I can't," she said again, fingertips pressed to her lips. She tried to stop them from trembling—tried and failed. "It's not logical."

"I know."

"Then just leave me alone," she begged.

"Don't ask that of me."

"I have to." With no couch to catch her this time, she sat down in front of the door. She didn't know how long she sat there or how long she cried for, but by the time clarity arrived she wasn't sure if she'd just imagined the entire thing or if she'd really lost her mind again.

She dabbed at her eyes with her shirt, running her hands through her hair, pushing it away from her face.

"Esme?"

She almost fell over as the voice drifted through the door. How long had he been standing there?

"I don't want to break your door, so please let me in."

She scrambled up on her feet, her hand hovering over the lock, her heart seemingly beating in her throat. Her fingers brushed the metal, curling back once, then she snapped the lock into place and opened the door.

She turned away from him. Looking at him only made it worse. Made it harder to keep her head and her feelings straight. She breathed heavily. "Could you really?" she asked. "Break the door?"

"Yes. Easily."

She looked at him then, feeling the warmth of his presence behind her, despite the cool silk of his skin.

She stumbled into the wall as he took a step forward. She followed it along, until she reached the couch and sank into the cushions. He was here again, standing in her living room. Hadn't she just decided to act less insane?

"You're not wrong," he said, coming to stand in front of her.

Sitting before him made her realize just how very tall he was—lean and statuesque, like some marble carved statue created in another time all together. She shook her head. "Am I not?"

He turned his head slowly. "Tell me and I won't deny it. I'll answer everything. Anything. Just please don't push me away."

Esme swallowed, looking at the carpet by his feet. This was it. He was asking for her to drop the tangled bits of thread by his feet. To drop it there and let him untangle it for her. This was not normal. Definitely not how you were supposed to follow up a coffee date. Well, Esme considered, she had tried normal once and that had ended up a disaster eight years in that making. So, really, how much worse could this be?

What was a little blood drinking now and then?

Oh, goodness, she thought. She'd gone saracastic in her head. Well, it was only downhill from here.

She glanced at him once, just quickly, then averted her eyes again, starting with the most obvious. "You're always so cold and pale."

"We have no functioning circulatory system. Our hearts no longer pump."

She took that in stride, considering what she knew and understood of the human body. Without a functioning heart you were more or less dead. But Carlisle stood before her, perfectly functional—a doctor even. So he was technically dead, but alive.

"Your family disappears whenever it's sunny," she said instead. She considered all the days the Cullen's had been absent from class and the conveniently sunless afternoon she and Carlisle had shared their coffee date.

That one made him smile momentarily. "Not for the reasons you may think." He crossed in front of her window, rolling up his sleeve. He cut into the last of the sunlight for a moment and she was blinded by the facets of diamond that rolled around his wrist.

She gasped as he pulled himself out of the sun.

"You can imagine," he said gently, "why we prefer not to draw that kind of attention to ourselves."

She sat further back on the couch, running her hands over shaking knees. "Your eyes . . ."

"My diet."

"Diet?"

"We feed on animals. We are vegetarians, if I may use that word for comparison."

"Vegetarian," she repeated, considering the alternative to what he meant and finding it difficult to swallow.

"Are you afraid of me?"

"I don't know," she whispered. And that was the truth of it: the overwhelming, complicated truth. Because why wouldn't she be afraid of this man—this creature—from myth. From legend. From haunted stories passed through the ages. This illogical, magical thing that she thought might be real in this very predictable and practical world. So of course she should be afraid. But she'd spent her life being afraid of monsters. Of monsters disguised as men. She knew what that felt like. Like pain. Like black and blue and purple and yellow. Like bruises. Like lies. Like smiles that hurt to form. Like waiting for change that never came. Like fists against her skin, angry and rough and endless.

She knew these things.

And none of them were Carlisle.

And that's what scared her the most: the fact that she was not afraid of him. Not really.

She just couldn't catch her breath all of a sudden and she clutched at her chest, at the constricting feeling, and the pain in her heart, like her lungs were trying to smother it.

In an instant Carlisle was kneeling in front of her, his hands on either side of her face. "Esme, breathe. Come on, that's it."

He took one of her hands and pressed it to his chest. She felt the deep inhale, the stretch of his skin beneath his sweater, and the slow exhale. Focusing on the feeling calmed her. Let her fall back into a regular rhythm, like it had never happened.

"You're safe," he said. "Whatever else you think, I promise you that. You are safe with me. I will never hurt you."

She blinked at him, caught up in his beautiful, golden gaze. "How do you always know?"

"I am still a doctor," he told her. "Despite everything else, that part is very much true."

"So I'm not crazy," she whispered, ducking her head as he tucked a strand of hair behind her ear.

He shook his head and climbed onto the couch beside her, close enough their legs pressed together. "No, you're not. You're amazing, actually."

She reached up, catching his hand where it lingered by her ear. "How is this possible?"

He smiled, but sadly it seemed, like he wanted to give her what she asked, but couldn't. "I have lived a very long time, Esme, and of all the things I have come to know, that is an answer that still eludes me."

Sometimes he spoke in a way that transported her back to a life that had disappeared long before she was born. Times of big flowing dresses and men with top hats and coattails. Times of steam engines and horse drawn carriages. So she asked him a question she had asked him once before. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-three," he said.

She licked her lips and studied his face for the tiny features that revealed him. "And how long have you been thirty-three?"

"Close to three centuries."

She felt her heart skip a beat and it made her gasp. She held her hand against her chest. He reached up and covered it with his own.

Carlisle was, in fact, a man that had stepped out of time. Unmoving. Unchanging. Immortal perhaps. It explained the funny speech patterns and mannerisms that she'd mistaken for some sort of misplaced chivalry. Carlisle wasn't acting the part, he was born into it.

"Will you ever . . . can you—"

"There are ways," he confirmed, "though those are extremes. By your standards, my kind is immortal."

"Oh," was all she could think to say.

"Oh?" he repeated.

"Oh," she said again, sinking into the cushion. "I'm sorry, it's a lot."

"I know." Despite the pain in his smile, he looked hopeful, like something inside him had been unburdened. "You look tired," he said.

She stared at the dark scene beyond her window, then to the clock that ticked in the kitchen. At some point, in the middle of all this, the sun had set, and as the stress of the last week caught up with her, mixing with the strange feeling of relief, a wave of exhaustion rolled over her entire body.

And yet, she wasn't ready to let him go. With gentle fingers, she traced the circles beneath his eyes, only visible up close. The skin beneath her thumb was cold and smooth, like running her hand over a marble arch. "Do you sleep?" she wondered.

He shook his head. "Never."

"Never?" she repeated, awed into some kind of silence for a moment. Then: "What do you with your time?"

"We find ways to keep busy." Carlisle brushed another strand of hair from her face. Now that they had started with these first tentative touches, it was hard to stop. "You'll find there are many things to learn in this world, especially as it changes."

"And what will you do tonight?" she wondered, letting her fingers skim over his cheek and then his jaw. She watched his muscles flex as she moved and she wondered if he felt the same butterflies she did.

"Undecided. I have no immediate plans."

She bit her lip, studying his face, the delicate flicker in his eyes, the prominent brow, the fine blond hair that tumbled over his forehead. "Stay?"

His eyes shifted slightly, like he was looking for an answer in her own. "Really?"

"I know I must be confusing you . . ."

"Esme, no, not at all. Your reaction . . . it was not completely unexpected. It just—"

"It hurt you." She frowned. "Alice said as much."

Carlisle ducked his head. "She was wrong in telling you so. In trying to sway you even for my benefit."

"But it was the truth, wasn't it?"

He took both her hands his. "It pains me to be away from you, yes. I cannot explain it fully myself or have any reason to justify just how deeply my feelings for you run, but if you'd let me, I'll stay. And when you wake in the morning, I'll still be here."

"I still think this might all be a dream," she confessed.

"No dream," he told her, smiling so wide it almost hurt to look.

She left him in the living room to get settled while she pulled down her bed and used the bathroom. When she returned he was reading comfortably on the couch—a book on the early works of Shakespeare.

"That one is sort of dry," she said.

"Some of it is inaccurate," Carlisle said, considering a page near the middle of the book.

Esme raised a delicate brow, feeling that same sensation of awe creep into her bones. It left her somewhat weightless.

Carlisle ducked his head, "A conversation for another time?"

"Sure," she said, though she decided it would take some time getting used to the fact Carlisle had been alive for nearly three hundred years.

He chuckled, most likely at the look on her face.

"What?" she wondered, unable to fight the smile.

"Nothing. You amaze me is all."

"Oh well, if that's all," she teased. Then she yawned. "You'll be okay out here?"

"Perfectly content," he assured her.

"Alright then." She took a step down the hall. "I'll see you in the morning, I suppose."

When she climbed into bed, she knew it wasn't going to last. With Carlisle sitting in the living room, she just couldn't get her mind to settle. Mostly it was because she couldn't be certain he was even out there. He was silent. Not a noise. Not a sound. Not even the rustle of a page turning. It was infuriating. She laid there for several long minutes wondering if she'd just imagined the entire exchange.

Finally, having had enough of thinking she was still insane, Esme got up and padded back towards the living room, wrapping a quilt around her shoulders as she went.

Carlisle looked up as she entered, putting a different book aside—one of the ones on ancient architecture pulled from her bookshelf. "Trouble sleeping?"

"Yes," she admitted. She sighed, the breath of air ruffling her hair. "I keep thinking that if I can't see you, you might disappear. And you're so quiet—"

Carlisle smiled, almost to himself.

"Are you comfortable?" she wondered.

"Very."

She took a deep breath, trying to settle the flutter in her chest. It's not as if she was going to sleep with him in any sense of the word—especially seeing as the man apparently never slept. But she wanted him closer. It had been a long time since she'd shared a bed with a man—a long time since Charles—and after everything that happened between them, she wasn't ready to give that part of herself away again.

But that's not what she was looking for here anyway.

She just wanted him closer. And the only place in her room was the bed. So she wasn't asking him to sleep with her, just to be with her, near enough that she could touch him if she wanted. Close enough she might be able to hear him breathe or shift or anything. Close enough to be sure he was real.

"You're heart his racing," he said, head tilted, a curious expression on his face.

She tried not to blush. "How do you know?"

"I can hear it."

"From all the way over there?"

"Yes."

Esme nodded. It wasn't that she wasn't impressed, because she was. It was just that she'd been so overwhelmed tonight, that learning Carlisle could pick her heartbeat out from across the room didn't seem so monumental. Maybe in the morning.

"Why is it racing?" he wondered.

"Because I want to ask you something."

"Then ask," he insisted. "Don't be afraid."

She tucked the quilt around her, tighter, closer, and nodded down the hall to her room. "Will you come read on the bed?"

He hesitated a moment—a moment in which they both just stared at each other, waiting to see who would cave first. But Esme was decided. She wasn't going to renege on the offer. So Carlisle accepted.

"I'd be happy to."

She waited for him to stand and then he followed her silently down the hall.

She crawled back into bed, sitting on her knees as she watched him cross the room to the other side of the bed and settle against the head board. He sat on top of the covers and she supposed it made sense if he never got cold.

"Is this okay?" he asked.

"Yes," she answered before she could think too hard about having a man in her bed again, never mind Carlisle Cullen. It was a moment before she realized he left his book in the living room. "Your book," she said. "Won't you be bored?"

"No," he said, looking down at her thoughtfully. "Not tonight."

She felt the flush creep up her neck and pulled the comforter closer as she settled in. "Good night, Carlisle."

"Good night, Esme."

* * *

 **A/N** : Gah, okay, I couldn't take it. Like I said there'd be some angst, but then I couldn't even handle the angst when I was writing it, so I had to fix the angst by the end. Some drama writer I am. Well, whatever, good news is things are happening now and I am so excited. I don't know what exactly is happening but it's something. . . anyway, I'm probably gonna struggle from here on out with the plot and getting this story to come together. It literally formed in my head with the image in this chapter of Esme and Carlisle standing on opposite sides of the door, with Esme trying to reconcile the revelation that Carlisle is a vampire. From there I kind of just worked backwards.

From here on in I'm not sure where we're going. There are a few elements that need to be addressed like Charles, the progression of Carlisle and Esme's relationship, and how/when she becomes a vampire. So, if anyone wants to talk plot with me or offer beta support that would be super helpful and might make the updates more frequent!

Anywho, hope you enjoyed. Let me know what you think :D


	13. Chapter 13

When morning broke, Esme was drawn out of sleep to find Carlisle watching the sun break between the trees framed in her bedroom window. Light poured in through the curtains, stopping just shy of the bed, so she was not treated to the dazzling sight of his skin again, though he dazzled her none the less.

He was like some Greek god lounging on her bed, unaware of his impeccable beauty and remarkable perfection. But it was the inane human act of looking at his phone that shattered the image and the line between man and myth became all the more tangled in her mind. It was impossible to separate them really, and Esme found herself staring unabashedly at him.

His phone rested in his hand and she recognized the buzz of a text message.

Carlisle scanned it quickly, flicking his thumb over the screen.

"Are you needed at the hospital?" she asked.

He looked down at her, smiling in a way that made her heart pound.

"Just my family. They're all a bit anxious that I didn't come home last night. Some nosier than others." His smile was gentle, but sure, as he studied her. She had an overwhelming urge to jump out of bed and brush her hair and maybe also her teeth.

Instead, she just shimmied closer to him, and he opened his arm to her. She hesitated, but only for a moment, before curling into his side. He was cool, even through the layer of clothes, but sensing this, he pulled her comforter tighter around her.

"You're still here."

He sat by her in the bed, much like he had that day at the hospital. "I promised I would be."

"Mmm," she hummed. She pressed her nose against his shirt. Not for the first time she considered how lovely he smelled. It was alluring, drawing her in, and she wondered if that was another vampire thing or simply a Carlisle thing.

"What are you thinking?" he asked.

"About your family. When you say family . . ."

"It is one that has come together over many years. They are all together—Alice and Jasper, Rosalie and Emmett, Edward and Bella—and not the eternal teenagers that they appear. But I do consider them my children in many ways."

"So . . . not exactly the typical seventeen year olds?"

"Not exactly. They may have been frozen in their late teens and early twenties, but their minds and experience far surpass their physical appearances now."

Esme sighed. "That makes this all a bit awkward. I've spent months wondering how to better engage them in class and it turns out they could probably teach it better than I could."

"Please don't think that way. If they passed off as teenagers than they're doing their job very well. It's our ability to blend in that affords us the life we maintain." He reached down and brushed his hand through her hair. He'd refrained from touching her as she slept; she knew this because she had indeed slept and that definitely would not have happened with his hands brushing across her face or through her hair. She'd be much too distracted. Perhaps he knew that. Or perhaps he simply had not wanted to frighten her.

Now though, that she was awake, the physical distance between them seemed like too much and they had quickly closed it. His fingers against her scalp were calming in a way that made her sleepy again, but also thrilled her to no end. It was a very complex and confusing bunch of emotions to work through.

"Secrecy is our greatest ally," he murmured above her. "The one thing that keeps us alive."

She looked up suddenly, searching for his face. Now he had her attention. Even his fingers couldn't distract her. "Alive?" she prompted.

He seemed to consider his words for a time. "There are others out there, like us, that have taken it upon themselves to keep the vampire world in the shadows. Anything that threatens our existence is dealt with harshly."

"You mean—"

"Yes," he said. "Death isn't something that vampires find easily, but it isn't impossible and something we have to be conscious of, especially if we break the rules."

"What rules?"

"To keep our true selves hidden from humans, for starters."

Esme swallowed, a batch of nerves making her anxious. "I don't think you're doing very well with that."

He chuckled. "Perhaps not. And I may be more concerned for it if Edward had not just been through this same sort of situation."

"Bella was human when they met?" Esme guessed.

"Yes. And though there were some things to work through, it did all work out in the end. And they are very happy together. It gives me faith."

"You seem very certain of things."

"I have Alice for that and I've learned not to bet against her."

Esme frowned. Carlisle brushed his thumb over the line that appeared on her forehead and for a moment she forgot what she was thinking about. Then she remembered—Alice.

Before she could ask, Carlisle looked across the room.

"What is it?" Esme wondered.

"Your phone," he said, "I think you have a call coming through."

"Oh." She sat up quickly, too quickly perhaps, because it made her dizzy, though she still managed to stumble across the floor without falling.

In her haste last night she'd left her phone in the heap of clothing she'd changed out of and left at the bottom of her closet.

She shook out her pants and watched her phone tumble out. Sarah's name was written across the screen in brilliant white letters.

"Crap," she muttered picking the phone up and answering it immediately. "Hello."

"Don't you hello me!"

Esme winced. This was Sarah's angry voice.

"I—"

"You don't return my calls. You barely text back. I'm over here, in the sunshine state, trying to make sure my toddler doesn't chase a turtle into the everglades and all I can think about is where you are. If you're okay . . ."

Esme rolled her eyes as Sarah continued to rant. Granted, she deserved some of it. She had neglected to call, although she'd been in the middle of working through some pretty insane things, which she didn't think would help her case with Sarah at this point. And—

"Esme Anne Platt, I swear to the good Lord if you don't talk to me right now I'm going to hunt you down across this god-forsaken country and—it's okay baby, don't cry, mommy is just mad at your Auntie Esme."

Esme could hearing Kayla sniffling in the background. "Okay," she said. "I'm sorry."

"Good, you should be. I was worried sick. Last thing I know is you're going on a date with this guy and then you all but disappear. For all I knew he killed you, cut up your body into tiny pieces, and hid you in his basement."

"That's a little extreme, Sarah. Have you been watching Criminal Minds again?"

"It's been on a marathon. So what? I have my wine and my murder dramas. Those are the only pleasures I'm allowed to have right now because my kids are sucking the life out of me, so sue me."

"Alright, I get it. You're stressed and I am not helping."

"I'm not stressed. I'm way passed that. Connor was dressed in his Halloween dinosaur costume and a pair of roller blades this morning and I dropped him off at the sitters like that. What kind of mother does that? I don't even know if he had underwear on. I pretty much let my kid leave the house nude."

Esme started to chuckle. When Sarah joined her on the other end she felt the tension dissipate.

"I don't like when I don't hear from you."

"I know, it won't happen again. It was just a busy week and I got caught up in things."

"Fine, excuses accepted, but only cause I love you and you're my only outlet for my pent up mom-rage."

"I'm here to help."

"Good. Okay, so tell me about Doctor Hotpants. I've been dying to hear how the date went."

Esme looked across the room, very aware that if Carlisle could hear her heartbeat across a room then he could easily hear Sarah. He met her eyes, brilliant gold watching her with curious, but rapt attention. "Stop talking," she muttered into the phone. "Right now."

"Oh. My. God. Is he there?" Sarah hissed and Esme could hear the triumph in her voice.

"Shh." Esme glanced from Carlisle's curious gaze to the bedroom door and before Sarah could say anything else incriminating she raced down the hall and into the living room. It wasn't much but at least not being able to see his facial expressions made her feel like he wasn't listening to every terrible thing Sarah was about to say.

"He is there. I can't believe it," Sarah all but sang. "Did you sleep with him?"

Esme brought her hand up to cover her blushing face. She could feel the heat against her palms.

"You did!"

"No. Not like that."

"So you didn't sleep?" Sarah squealed.

"There was sleeping. Kind of. But not in the way you're thinking. It was all very innocent."

"But there was a bed involved?"

"Yes."

"Did he take his clothes off?"

"No, honestly Sarah—"

"Did you want him to take his clothes off?"

Esme felt the blush deepen. She had literally just confirmed that the man was a vampire and that she wasn't crazy. She hadn't really had time to consider what Carlisle looked like without clothes, but now that Sarah had brought it up . . .

"So, just to be clear. There was a bed involved. He may or may not be at your place right now. But absolutely no sex happened?"

Esme's heart pounded and for the first time it was not because of nervous, girlish jitters about the man currently sitting in her bedroom, but because of the anxiety that twisted in her veins at the thought of being that intimate. "I'm not . . . I can't—"

"Hey," Sarah whispered. "I get it." There was a gentle pause. "Is he at least a good kisser?"

Esme brushed her fingers against her lips. "I don't know yet."

Sarah made a strangled noise on her end of the phone. "I can't even. Okay, so this is fresh. Like really fresh. So I want daily reports."

"I'm not promising daily reports on my love life."

"Yes you are. Or I'm going to look up Doctor Hotpants on the internet and call him myself."

Esme rolled her eyes. "That's some kind of ridiculous blackmail."

"I think it's more like extortion."

"Well, I'll do my best then."

"That's my girl." Another pause. "Hey, is everything else okay? The whole he-who-must-not-be-named situation?"

"Is still a situation," Esme whispered. "But yes, I had a . . . crazy couple days, but I think everything has calmed down now. At least, I hope."

"Well, you know where to find me when you need to talk. Elbow deep in baby formula."

Esme smiled. "Give the kids hugs for me, okay?"

"Always. They love you. I love you. Come see me soon."

"I'll try."

"You better. Talk to you later."

"Yeah, bye." Esme hung up the phone and clutched it to her chest for a moment. Then she padded slowly back towards her bedroom, peeking around the corner of the door frame.

Carlisle wasn't looking at her, but instead out the window again. He turned as she entered though and she pursed her lips.

"Doctor Hotpants?" he said, smiling to himself.

She flushed but shook her head. "That's Sarah. She can be a handful."

"She's your friend?"

"Best friend. Since we were kids."

"Where is she now? Ohio?"

Esme shook her head. "Florida. With her husband."

"You miss her."

Esme swallowed. Goodness, this man. This man she barely knew and yet who could see right through her. "Yes," she whispered. She sat on the edge of the bed, one leg tucked under her. He reached across the mattress for her hand and squeezed. Then he ran his thumb over her finger, right where her wedding ring should be, lingering just a moment too long and she felt the flicker of panic in her chest.

She pulled her hand back. "Carlisle—"

"I know about him," he said, cutting her off. "And it's okay."

Wait. What? Esme tried to backtrack the past twelve hours. Had she said something about Charles? Had she mentioned his name without realizing? No, that wasn't likely. She was acutely aware whenever Charles was involved and the last thing she wanted was to drag that mess into this already tentative and new situation with Carlisle. And yet, here he was, telling her that he didn't matter. She frowned. "I don't understand. How do you—"

Carlisle ducked his head, and offered her a tight smile. "I—well, I had some help. I might have researched your past. I know it was wrong, that I should have let you tell me. Only I had to know what I needed to keep you safe from. What I needed to protect my family from."

She nodded slowly. "How much do you know?"

"Enough. Jasper is very gifted with a computer."

"I see." Esme swallowed hard. She wasn't going to lie, there was a part of her that was immensely relieved. She didn't want to have to explain Charles. At least not all of it. There would still be parts of her life that she'd have to unravel for Carlisle, but maybe it was better this way. Still, a part of her felt exposed; in a very short time he'd learned the things she'd kept secret for a very large part of her life. Besides Sarah, no one else knew what she'd gone through during her marriage to Charles.

It had been her burden to bear—was still her burden until those damn divorce papers were signed. Yet, somehow Carlisle had forced his way into the middle of all that.

"What's happening between us—" she began.

"Isn't your typical, everyday relationship," he said with the kind of conviction that had made her believe in love in the first place. "It isn't defined by convention. And certainly not by your past, or whatever remains of it."

"So you don't care that I'm about to be a divorcee?"

"I only care that you suffered so much before I found you. That you continue to suffer because of him." His fist curled in his lap. For a moment it looked as if his entire body shook. Then he seemed to push whatever made him angry away and his hand came up to cup her face. "I want you to know that you're safe here, in Forks. I will make sure of it. And I'm sorry I didn't wait for you to tell me."

"It doesn't change how you feel?"

"Did you discovering that I was a vampire change how you felt?"

Esme laughed, despite herself, leaning into his hand. "No. I thought I'd gone crazy, but I still couldn't deny my feelings for you."

"Then never doubt mine for you."

Her heart fluttered, but she pushed away the little voice inside her head that told her this was the part of the rom-com where the woman melted into a puddle of bliss on the floor.

"Well," she said instead, "I suppose it's only fair. I guess, in a way, I also had help with a background search."

This seemed to baffle Carlisle. "Who?"

"Jacob Black."

He paused, his tone careful. "You've been down to the reservation?"

"Yes. I tutor Billy Black's son and some of his friends. They got talking one day about the old legends. Stories of wolves and . . . and Cold Ones." The images that word concocted, right from her dream, still gave her chills.

"So that's what tipped you off in the end?"

"Yes."

Carlisle swallowed and she watched the delicate motion of his throat. "I made a treaty with his grandfather many years ago. As long as neither party crossed the boundary and no harm came to any humans, we were free to coexist."

"You've been to Forks before?"

He smiled. "Property is a very good investment. We often return to places long after our presence there has been forgotten."

Esme found herself with a strange and uneasy feeling in her gut.

Carlisle took her hand. "What is it?"

"How long do you normally stay in one place?"

"It depends really."

"On what?"

"On what age we pretend to be when we arrive. How young my family decides to start school. The longest is usually four or five years. Then people start to notice we're not ageing. Edward lets us know when that becomes a problem and we disappear quickly."

The 'disappear quickly' thing had her on edge. What if he disappeared in the night and she woke up to find that she really had dreamed it all? It made her nervous and sick and . . .

"Wait, why Edward?" Carlisle raised a brow and Esme shuffled closer to him. "You said Edward keeps an eye on things. Why him?"

"He, well, he has a unique talent that comes in very handy for our family."

"What kind of talent?"

"He is telepathic. He can hear other people's thoughts. Which, as you can imagine, allows us to stay ahead of the rumours."

Esme felt her face blanch. "You mean, everything I've thought in class . . ." she gaped, feeling the shock hit her like a punching bag. She looked up at Carlisle. "Can you? Is this a vampire thing?"

"No," he assured her quickly. "It's very much an Edward thing. And he is very considerate of the people around him. If not we wouldn't all survive under one roof. I have never envied him, though I have found myself wishing I could borrow his talent as of late. And especially now. What had you so worried before?"

Esme hugged her knees. "Will you really just disappear one night?"

"Oh, Esme. No, no. Of course not, please don't fret about that. I am here—I will be here—until you tell me otherwise." He brushed his hand along her cheek, tucking her hair behind her ear.

"I don't think I will. Tell you otherwise, that is."

"I'm glad." He leaned towards her and she could feel the thud of her pulse in her throat, like her heart was trying to make a break for it. "I want to . . . hold very still, please."

He gently pressed his lips against hers. It was cold, sending a thrill down her spine, and very innocent. Just a gentle brush of lips, like he was testing the waters, like he was a boy exploring things for the first time.

When he pulled away, she could feel his sweet breath against her face.

She swallowed hard, acutely aware of the sound in her ears. Like the ticking clock on her wall. Like the hum of the traffic outside. Everything seemed heightened. But most of all the frantic thud of her heart in her chest.

Carlisle smiled, running his thumb over the pulse point in her wrist.

He knew exactly what he was doing to her and he didn't seem so much like a boy then, but a man who was slowly driving her wild.

"It's beating so fast."

"Yes," Esme said, slightly breathless. "That tends to happen around you."

Carlisle leaned in again, stopping to grin as her pulse accelerated. He drew his lips along her jaw, slowly, like he was learning her. Like she was made of glass. And maybe to him, she was. His lips settled on the pulse at her neck, and though she should have cowered away from him in fear at this point, she found herself falling faster and harder.

"I think I might love you," he whispered against her skin.

She gasped, pulling back enough to see his deep, golden eyes. He didn't look ashamed of his confession, though somehow terrified, like he had never loved before.

And perhaps he hadn't.

And maybe she never had either. Not really.

He studied her face and she watched his eyes flicker.

"I don't know how to be without you now," he confessed.

"Then don't," she whispered.

And though she didn't know how they'd gotten to this point, or where they would go from here, she knew that somehow Carlisle Cullen had just become a big part of her world. And she was okay with that.


	14. Chapter 14

As far as her move to Forks and her subsequent attempt to start over, Esme could emphatically say that she had not expected to fall for a man, never mind a vampire. A relationship, in any sense of the word, had been so far down on her list that part of her had secretly given up on the chance of anything remotely romantic after escaping her life with Charles.

And part of her had been okay with that.

She wanted her freedom again.

She wanted her life back.

But the life she had started to rebuild came with the awful price of secrets and lies and carefully constructed walls meant to protect her.

It also held the people she might have cared about just out of reach.

Because as much as she attended the weekly social at the pub with the other teachers, and showed up to yoga class regularly, and was greeted by the same people week in and week out when she went to the grocery store, the truth was that no one really knew her. Not the real her. An unfortunate reality she'd kept up to protect herself.

And yet, somewhere in the middle of all this, Carlisle Cullen had showed up, bowling her over with the strength of her feelings for him. Not only did he make her heart beat frantically whenever he looked her way, but he had his own secrets. Secrets that were just as dark. Just as dangerous.

Secrets with walls he had crafted to protect both him and his family. But for some reason, he had let her into his world, and he'd subsequently wormed his way into hers.

So that's how he ended up spending the weekend with her.

A lazy Saturday spent unearthing the pasts they both usually kept locked tightly turned into Sunday and still Carlisle had not left her side except to change his clothes and check in with his family in the early morning. He had pressed a chaste kiss to her cheek before disappearing just before the sun completely cleared the treeline, though he was back before she'd even finished making breakfast for herself.

He stood over her shoulder, hovering close enough that his presence sent nervous tremors through her hands as she poured hot water over her instant oatmeal.

"Is that really what you're going to eat?" He took one of the empty oatmeal packs and inspected the ingredients.

Esme plucked it from his hand with a gentle smile. "Someone who doesn't eat the . . . traditional diet, shouldn't get to comment on mine." She considered him. "You don't, right?"

"Eat human food, no. It doesn't do anything but sit in our bodies. Eventually we have to bring it up again."

Esme wrinkled her nose. "Have you had to do that before?"

"On occasion, to keep up appearances. And it was as unappealing as this looks."

"Hmm," Esme mumbled. She took her spoon and stirred her oatmeal until the water was absorbed. "I don't feel like cooking anything more complicated right now, so oatmeal it is." She took a bite, then pointed her spoon at him. "No matter how unappealing it looks."

Carlisle snatched her bowl from the counter. "You know, I am a doctor and must strongly oppose this."

He held it high above her head as she began to protest and she quickly realized there was no way she'd get it back. Her spoon wasn't very threatening after all. But before she could protest again, he moved, disappearing from sight. She heard the cupboard near the garbage open, a splash of water, the suction of the fridge. When he stilled again, he was standing in front of the stove holding a spatula. There was a fine layer of yellow eggs beginning to fry along the bottom of a non-stick frying pan.

She blinked at him and tried to remember to close her mouth. There was only ever a period of three minutes before he did or said something that completely awed her, so she'd become well versed at masking the look of shock on her face over the last forty-eight hours.

He chuckled softly. "Did I make you dizzy?"

"A little," she confessed.

"I'm sorry. It's harder to keep up appearances now that you know." He stepped towards her, brushing his free hand along her cheekbone. "Now that I don't have to pretend."

"You don't," she assured him, catching his hand with her own. "Just maybe warn me next time."

Carlisle laughed outwardly. "You haven't really seen anything yet. Edward is the fastest of us all."

"Well that might explain that day at school when I thought I saw Jasper and Emmett appear from the woods."

"So you did see them," Carlisle mused, his expression perplexed. "You never said anything to anyone."

"I wasn't sure what I saw exactly. And I wasn't going to be the new to town weirdo that goes spouting off strange stories about things that can't possibly be true." She grinned at him. "Especially after I hit my head. One night in the hospital was enough for me."

"Yes, we wouldn't want people thinking you were crazy." He played with a piece of hair that had pulled from the knot at the back of her head. His fingers brushed her neck and she felt a pleasant shiver shoot down her spine. "I'm afraid being seen with me will cause rumour enough."

"I work at a high school. Spend a few lunches in the staff room and you can handle a few rumours."

"They sound as bad as the nurses at the hospital," Carlisle admitted with a smirk.

"There was that one in the ER that seemed like she had her head screwed on straight. I liked her." Esme eyed the stove around his arm. "So . . . you cook?"

He turned to examine the eggs. "I wouldn't exactly call pushing eggs around a frying pan cooking, but it is an improvement on what you considered an edible breakfast."

She grinned at him. "I can cook just fine, I'll have you know. But I appreciate it all the same."

He leaned towards her and pressed a gentle kiss to the corner of her mouth before trailing across and pecking her lips.

She leaned against the counter, slightly dazed and he chuckled.

"That's not fair."

"Sit," he said, pulling a plate from her cupboard. "Please."

So she did.

He tipped the eggs onto the plate and placed it in front of her with a fork, looking somewhat anxious for her to begin eating.

To ease his nerves, she picked up a forkful and took a bite. The eggs filled her and it was only after finishing half the plate that she realized how hungry she had been. Things like eating regular meals had seemed sort of inconsequential when she had a three-hundred-year-old immortal whispering classic poetry to her as she fell asleep at night.

"Do I pass?"

"You pass," Esme agreed easily. "If the whole doctor thing doesn't work out, you could always take up cooking."

Carlisle grinned. "Strictly breakfast foods of course."

"Of course. Do you know how many ways there are to prepare an egg?"

"Probably more than I know." He shook his head as he ran the tap and washed the dishes.

"You could make it a family business," Esme teased. "Give the kids something to do once they all graduated."

"Bella would probably go for it, if I let her in the kitchen. And Edward would do anything Bella wanted to do. Emmett would think the entire thing was much to amusing to pass up. But the others," Carlisle chuckled, "oh, Rosalie might not talk to me for a decade or two."

They both laughed, falling into a comfortable silence, and Esme had to pinch herself at the fact she was spending her Sunday morning eating breakfast in her pyjamas, laughing at things with a beautiful man like it was normal. Like it was something they had been doing for years. This is all she had ever wanted—cozy Sunday mornings and small talk over eggs. It had never been that simple with Charles and she hated thinking about all the years she wasted, trapped in his mind games. She pushed the thoughts of Charles out of her head, refusing to let him have any of the time she spent with Carlisle.

She grinned at him as he stole glances over the sink bubbles, filling the room with the heavy scent of green apples. Then his phone buzzed from its spot on the counter. He glanced at it quickly, but ignored whatever it said.

"The family?" she wondered.

"Yes. Being nosy again."

"You know," Esme began, pushing the last of her eggs around her plate. "You haven't gone in to work this entire weekend. I'm sure someone misses you at the hospital. As the rumours go, you're one of the best things to have happened to Forks General in a long time."

Carlisle ducked his head, but the smile he gave her was warm and grateful. "I may have used some well deserved vacation days."

"I wouldn't exactly consider this a vacation," Esme said. "I'm sure there are more productive things you could be doing with your time off."

"On the contrary, I am enjoying myself immensely." He dried his hands on a towel and came around the counter to sit by her. He stroked her skin, his hands still flushed from the warm water. "And trust me, this by no means cuts into what I've accumulated. Though I sense that my vacation time is going to be put to good use all of a sudden."

She blushed, turning away to push her plate across the counter. He caught her hand and pulled it to his lips, causing her heart to make that strange bounding motion.

"So, Ms. Platt," he whispered. "Speaking of work. I'm sure there are some very important teacher things I am keeping you from." He turned her hand over and kissed her wrist, right above her pulse point.

"I might have marking to do," she admitted, trying very hard to control her breathing. "And lessons to plan."

"Will I be a great distraction if I stay?"

Esme swallowed. "Most definitely. But I would very much like you to stay."

"Then I will," he said. "Go get your things. Let's at least pretend you are going to be productive."

They spent the afternoon on the couch, Esme snuggled in a blanket, leaning against Carlisle. She poured through her copies of Shakespeare, making notes for her slideshow presentations while Carlisle made interesting asides that sometimes made her lose her train of thought. Every now and then she would be reminded of just how much history he had lived through. How much knowledge he had. How many things he had seen. It made her feel slightly unimpressive in comparison, but Carlisle seemed fascinated by her, and the last thing she wanted to do was put too much pressure on whatever this was. She wanted to enjoy what was developing between them, and she did.

As the sun set and the afternoon turned to evening, her stomach growled and Carlisle chuckled, poking her gently in the side. It made her squirm, but he caught her, cuddling her close and she could feel his sweet breath on her neck. "Time to feed the human," he teased.

She eyed him, doing her best to maintain a serious expression, though when his lips pecked her cheek she caved, giggling as he tickled her sides.

Eventually she managed to wriggle away to the safety of the kitchen, throwing open her cupboards to consider her options. After a moment, she settled on a can of chicken soup.

"Am I going to be disappointed in your choice of food again?"

"Probably. Though I bought the can that's low in sodium even though I have excellent cholesterol levels."

Carlisle frowned, crossing the kitchen to meet her.

Esme tucked the can of soup behind her back, leaning against the counter as he made to reach for it. "No one ever died from eating chicken soup. In fact, I'm pretty sure doctors used to recommend it to mothers to give to their ailing children. In fact, you were probably there. Early nineteen hundreds perhaps?"

Carlisle dropped his hands to his hips, doing his best not to smile at her jab. "I'll have you know that I have never ordered any of my patients to eat chicken soup. I give much better medical advice than that."

Esme covered her mouth with her hand. "I am aghast, what kind of doctor are you?" She giggled at the affronted look on his face. "Well, no one I know has died from eating chicken soup. Besides, I'm out of eggs."

She placed a pot on top of the stove, added the soup, a can of water, and turned it on high. When it came to a boil, she turned the stove off and poured it in a bowl.

"So," she said, adding a few crackers to the top of her soup. She glanced across the counter at him. He watched her patiently, like she was the most interesting thing he had ever seen, his hands folded under his chin. She swallowed down the nervous flutter in her chest at the thought. "When will I see you again?"

"I have a shift tonight at the hospital, but may I see you after school tomorrow?"

"I—yes, I'd like that."

"You're not concerned, are you?"

"About what?"

"I know what you said about rumours, but the fact of the matter is people will talk. They always do when it comes to us." He winced slightly and she wanted to brush the uncertainty on his face away. "I just don't want you caught off guard. As fascinating as people find us, there is also an element of fear there. Most humans don't know why they feel it, and most never will, but sometimes that ignorance breeds hostility."

"I can handle a few stares, Carlisle. I'm not as delicate as I look."

"Of course not."

"And you're not concerned about being seen with me?" she teased. "And what that will do to your reputation?"

"On the contrary," he said. "It's taking all my self-control not to take you around town on my arm. I am very much in awe of you."

Esme was at a loss for words. She simply shook her head and smiled shyly. He dazzled her with his words as much as with his looks. She didn't even know how to take that kind of compliment.

"Say something," he whispered. "Please, if I ever overstep just say so—"

"You haven't, Carlisle, sometimes you just dazzle me." She shrugged. "And I don't now how to respond."

"I'll keep my dazzling to a minimum then, shall I?"

"Yes, if you could that would be greatly appreciated." They both laughed, falling into another one of those easy silences. She never felt the urge to fill them. Never felt the urge to read the conversation for cues, or to double check her words before speaking, or to watch his fists for signs of agitation. These habits she had were slowly becoming obsolete.

Carlisle's phone buzzed and he stared at the screen for a few moments. Esme ate her soup, waiting for him to reply to the text message. There was a grin on his face when she looked up.

"What is it?"

"Alice is very eager to meet you." He sighed. "And very impatient."

"Technically, I have met her," Esme said, brow furrowing. "I've been teaching her for three months now."

"You haven't met her properly, not since finding out about us," Carlisle explained, "which she wants remedied as soon as possible."

"Well, I suppose I will see them all tomorrow, though I'm not sure the school is the best place for the kinds of conversations we will inevitably have."

"Actually, Alice has informed me that this week is going to be unusually sunny, which means an impromptu hiking trip is in order."

Esme frowned.

"It's much to risky being in town with the sun. So you won't get the chance to see the kids this week and Alice is very unhappy."

"You know, the weather is very temperamental. And I've never lived anywhere cloudier in my life. Plus it was snowing just yesterday. I think a week of sun is pushing it."

"All very true things," Carlisle said. "Though we never bet against Alice."

"I sense another story in your tone."

Carlisle laughed. "You would be correct."

Esme worried her lip. "Is this one of those Edward type things?"

"It is very similar, yes. And I believe I will save it for another day. I promised to keep the dazzling to a minimum."

Esme grinned. "Well, I suppose I will see you in a few days then?"

"Not a chance. As far as Forks knows the Cullen's will be on one of their sunny day hiking adventures. What it really means is that they'll spend most of the day holed up inside the house, arguing with each other, or deep in the forests hunting. But I will indeed see you tomorrow."

"Carlisle, don't risk it. If everyone thinks you've gone hiking and someone in town spots you—"

"No one will see me. Trust me." He put her soup bowl in the sink and gave her hand a gentle tug. "Come, I'll sit with you until you fall asleep. I've been practicing my Lord Byron."

He pulled her close, his lips grazing her ear, " _She walks in beauty, like the night—_ "

If Esme ever had a hope in controlling her heartbeat around this man again, it was not going to happen when he said things like that to her. And judging by the gentle smirk on his face, he knew exactly that.

She drifted off to sleep that night to Carlisle's soft tenor, his words sweet against her cheek. And not for the first time she pleaded with herself not to wake up from this dream, for the reality of it might just crush her.

* * *

 **A/N: So . . . I suck, I know. And I'm sorry for going AWOL for like a month, but in my defence, finishing nursing school took more effort than I anticipated. On the bright side, I'm now finished, so woo hoo for that. Though I do now have to study to pass the licensing exam. To bad I suck at studying and usually just spend my days writing instead (hee hee). Expect all the updates now. :D**


	15. Chapter 15

The following day Esme did damage control. She had missed some of last week, particularly when she had the breakdown after figuring out what Carlisle was. Though that seemed like a lifetime ago now, to her colleagues she was still recovering from a violent illness. She played out that story with her coworkers and got her students back on track with their lessons. Having a supply teacher had spoiled them and it took half the period just to get them to focus again.

At lunch she placed a call to the Black residence to apologize for missing Jacob's tutoring session and to let them know she'd be by later in the week. Tammi popped in to see her at lunch, followed closely by Jeremy—the history teacher—who diligently filled her in on all the things she missed while Tammi rolled her eyes discreetly.

Esme appreciated it none the less and was startled to think how much her life had changed in a week. This time last week she had been fraught with confusion and frustration about what to do about Carlisle, and now the sound of his name blossomed into a happiness that filled her chest.

She nodded thoughtfully when Jeremy mentioned that she'd been signed up for chaperone duty at the semi-formal dance that would take place after winter holidays. He'd conveniently been signed up as well, though Tammi waited for Jeremy to return to his class before saying so.

Esme rolled her eyes at the coach, smiling as she waved from the doorway.

After fourth period, Esme was surprised to find a text message from Carlisle when she checked her phone in between classes. He told her that he hoped she'd had a good day so far and promised to see her tonight. It took several minutes for her to be able to wipe the silly grin off her face and she was glad that the rest of the Cullen's were conveniently absent today. Now that she knew about them, and about Edward's gift, she was hesitant to think of Carlisle at all, especially when her thoughts got tangled up and somewhat inappropriate—which tended to happen because Sarah was sending her hourly text messages demanding updates on the Doctor Hotpants situation.

Esme dropped her head into her hand. She was really going to have to stop thinking that in her head.

As the day ended, she packed up her things, swung by the staff room to check her mailbox, and drove home. Inside her apartment, the first thing she did was slip off her heels with a sigh of relief. The rest of her clothes disappeared as she made her way to her bedroom and into the shower. A half hour later, she changed into sweats and wandered around the apartment, straightening things that had been neglected over the weekend since she had been slightly preoccupied with Carlisle.

A shadow crossed the living room as she was fluffing the pillows on the couch and she spun, startled to see Carlisle step onto her balcony, appearing from virtually nowhere.

She blinked at him, at his dazzling grin and the way he tipped his head, studying her through the glass.

She quickly unlocked the screen door and slid it open, watching as he stepped inside. "You know I have a front door, right? I even think you've used it before."

"I didn't bring my car. Running is so much faster. I'd look suspicious being in town without it, so I thought I'd avoid the front door." He pressed his lips to her cheek, hovering for a moment too long and teasing her just a bit. "You don't mind, do you?"

When he pulled away, she pressed her fingers to the spot on her cheek where her skin still tingled from his lips. "No," she whispered. He could hang out on the balcony all he wanted.

Carlisle chuckled.

"What's this?" Esme asked, finally gaining some sort of control back. She gestured to the tray in his hands.

"Lasagna. It was Bella's Grandma's recipe. And before you say it's too much, just know that cooking for you kept things very civil in the house today and I can't tell you how much I appreciate it."

Esme shrugged, offering him a little grin as she took the dish and put it on the stove. "That's very thoughtful of her. Say thank you for me."

"I will. She'll be pleased. Even more so if it tastes the way it's supposed to."

"I'm sure it will. You have a very talented family." She regarded him for a moment: the gentle sweep of his blond hair, the dark jeans and burgundy sweater; he looked different like this, more casual. She'd gotten used to neatly pressed slacks and dress shirts when he was coming and going from the hospital. This was a completely different Carlisle. She swallowed hard, realizing that she was staring, and busied herself at the counter, sorting through her mail. If he had noticed her staring, he didn't say anything. "Were you standing out there this whole time with lasagna?" she asked, leaving the hydro bill and her phone bill on the counter for later.

"It's not the strangest thing I've ever been accused of."

"You have a list?"

"Sadly, yes."

Esme chuckled, shaking her head gently before making her way into his waiting arms. Reaching for him, she felt something in her settle as his arms closed around her frame. There was a sense of peace that filled her when she was with him. A kind of completeness she couldn't explain. She tipped her head up to look at him. "I can't believe you told the kids how much you disapproved of my food choices."

"I did no such thing."

Esme cocked her head to the side. "Why else would Bella send me lasagna?"

"In my defence," Carlisle began. "I didn't say anything. When one of your family members can hear everything you think, and the other one can .. . well, see things, it becomes quite difficult to maintain a secret."

Esme hugged him once more, then pulled away. "When you say _see_ I suppose you're talking about Alice?"

"Indeed."

She crawled onto one end of the couch, delighted when Carlisle settled right next to her, throwing his arm behind her head, which left her no choice but to cuddle up against him. "So explain this to me . . . Alice seeing things."

"Well, essentially they are visions of the future, or a possible future. Nothing is for certain, but Alice does have a knack for seeing most things, once they have been decided on."

"That's, well, I thought Edward's gift was impressive . . ." She looked at him uncertainly. "Is there anything else I should know about your family?"

"Jasper has the ability to manipulate emotions, though he rarely ever needs to use his gift anymore."

"And you," Esme says. "There's nothing I should know? Telepathy? Telekinesis?"

Carlisle beamed at her, but shook his head. "My claim to fame is my control. Though not as interesting as the others, it has allowed me to do a job that I love and interact among the human world. To create a family and to chose a different path for my life."

"A good vampire," Esme said with a grin.

"The others of our kind aren't inherently bad, they just choose to live a different way. Though it was not for me, I have met many friends over the centuries that consider us the oddity."

"It must be rather difficult," Esme said. "To continuously fight against what you are."

"Sometimes. Members of my family have struggled, but we work together. And each year that passes makes things easier. Bella is the newest member of our family and she is doing exceptionally well."

"Don't you ever grow tired of it? Of pretending to be something for the sake of everyone else?"

"No," Carlisle said honestly, pressing his lips to the top of her head. "It brings me great joy. I spent many years alone, wandering and confused, but slowly time brought me my family, and now it has brought me to you, and I would suffer a thousand lifetimes over if it meant meeting you again."

Esme felt tears brim along her eyelashes. Never in her life did she think she would meet someone who might love her the same way she loved people. Carlisle Cullen might just turn out to be the exception.

They sat like that on the couch, curled against each other, basking in their little bubble of happiness.

They continued like this for much of the week. Esme would spend the days at school, Carlisle would mysteriously appear on her balcony after she came home, and they would then spend the night together. He would stay until the early hours of the morning, long after she had fallen asleep listening to the sound of his voice.

On Wednesday evening, an hour after she had climbed into bed with her laptop to do some marking, Carlisle shifted beside her.

It wasn't that the movement bothered her, but between the two of them, Carlisle tended not to be the one to fidget, so she looked up curiously.

He brushed his fingers through her hair. "Are you happy?" he asked her, the question so blunt that he broke her from the pleasant bubble she had been floating in as his fingers skimmed her skin.

"Yes," she said. "Very much. Why do you ask?"

"Alice tells me I won't see you after school tomorrow. She says your future is fuzzy, like it's undecided and I wondered if maybe . . . if this is all too soon. If you need space and time and," he grinned sheepishly, "I could start using the front door, and call before I came over. It could be more . . . normal—if that's what you want."

"Oh," Esme said, looking down to study her hands. "I see." She spent so much time feeling like she was underwhelming in comparison to him, that she hadn't stopped to think that Carlisle might feel the same way—nervous and anxious and frightened that he might make a complete fool of himself by asking for too much too soon. She smiled gently as she took his hands in hers. "I know this isn't exactly typical, but I am happy with where things are, Carlisle. Besides, I'm not sure normal exactly covers the kind of relationship we have. And in regards to after school tomorrow, I have to tutor, so it will be much later before I get in, which might explain Alice's vision."

He let out a sigh of relief.

"Were you fretting about this all night?"

"Yes, in all honestly."

"I thought so. You were much too fidgety tonight."

Carlisle pulled her to him, folding his hands around her waist.

She giggled into the kiss as she pressed her lips to his. It quickly became more than the chaste little kisses they so often shared and she tilted her head to pull him closer.

"I don't want to do anything to push you away," he whispered against her skin, kissing her again, then breaking away. "Promise you'll talk to me?"

"I promise." She gasped into the next kiss, pulling him down to the pillow with her. A thunder of blood rushed in her ears and a clawing sensation shot up her spine. For a moment she couldn't tell if it was desire or fear. Intimacy had been a taboo subject for as long as Charles and her had been together. Even after she left, she couldn't quite figure out what that part of her life would be like now. Meeting Carlisle had changed the rules on her. These thoughts and feelings and emotions she thought she'd locked away suddenly came rushing back—both the good and the bad—and she was having a hard time separating what exactly they meant.

Fearing her indecision more than anything else, she held her breath and pulled away, letting her fingers go limp in his hair. A bed still held too many implications for her. Slowly, almost as if not to startle her, Carlisle pulled away. He searched her eyes, though she carefully averted her gaze, staring up at the ceiling. She searched for his hand, squeezing when she found it, because this wasn't him at all, this was her—the demons she had to work through.

She offered him that one reassurance and it seemed to be enough because he didn't retreat, and she didn't want him to. He merely sat up beside her and resumed reading his medical journal. After a moment she returned to her marking and they sat in that comfortable silence until her eyes grew droopy and he pulled her into his arms, whispering words from a world that no longer existed until she fell asleep.


	16. Chapter 16

"Thank the spirits, Ms. Platt, you're back!"

On Thursday afternoon, Esme was ushered into the house by Embry who looked like he might have grown since the last time she saw him. He was lankier than ever, like his body couldn't quite keep up with the growth spurt; his face had thinned out and there was a fine definition in his arms. It was a stark reminder of how much teenagers changed during these years. His smile was still the same though, goofy and endearing.

"May I take your coat?"

"Well, aren't you a gentleman." Esme slipped off her winter jacket and Embry hung it in the closet. Regardless of the fact that Jacob and his friends ran around in shorts and muscle shirts all year long, it was actually frigidly cold today.

"Hello, Esme." Billy Black rolled down the hallway, steering the wheelchair around a pair of worn sneakers. "Jake, how many times do I have to tell you about your shoes?"

"Sorry," Jacob called, appearing at the end of the hall with a sandwich stuffed in his mouth. There was a piece of bread in one hand and a butter knife in the other. "Embry, grab my shoes."

"What do I look like?"

Jacob rolled his eyes. "You want food or not?"

Esme and Billy chuckled as Embry gathered the paraphernalia in the hall that had been unloaded as the boys came in from school. He grumbled under his breath, dumping the pile on the kitchen table. "Why doesn't Quil have to help?"

"I've been cleaning since I got here!"

Esme saw a shoe fly across the kitchen.

Jacob hissed at his friends, most likely with a mouth full of sandwich.

"Getting some cheap labour out of them?" Esme wondered.

Billy smirked. "Not likely. Rachel, my oldest, is coming home today. She just finished college and is going to be staying for a while."

"That's wonderful."

"Jake's friends always took a liking to her; she's just like Jake's mom was: pretty, kind, fiery. It's amazing what the power of hormones can do. I told Jake to tidy up yesterday. He said he had it covered. Now I know what he meant."

Esme bit her lip to keep from smiling. "At least he's resourceful."

"Or lazy. He didn't learn that from me though." Billy grabbed his house keys off the table by the front door. "Harry Clearwater is driving me down to Seattle to pick Rachel up, so it'll just be you and the boys. If they give you any trouble, Sue is home next door. She'll come over and sort them out."

Esme laughed. "I think we'll be okay."

"Thanks again for doing this, Esme. I really appreciate it." Billy lowered his voice to a whisper. "Jake's been a lot better about things since you started tutoring him. School, his friends, even with me. I don't know what you did, but I'm grateful to you for it."

"It's been my pleasure, Billy. Jacob's a really good kid. You've done a great job with him."

"It doesn't always feel that way, but he's happier than he's been in a long time, so I'll take it."

"Have a safe trip," Esme said, watching Billy roll down the ramp to the driveway. She locked the door behind her out of habit, then made her way to the kitchen, taking her usual spot at the table.

The bickering died down as she settled in and Jacob fetched her a glass of water.

"So," Esme began, "who's going to fill me in?"

The boys all started talking at once and Esme prepared herself to stay for a while.

She heard more about the dynamics of the current love triangles at the La Push high school, Embry's childhood crush on Jacob's sister, and even about the secret motorcycle Jacob was fixing up in the garage than any of their actual homework, but by the time Esme left that night, she knew these little tutoring sessions were about more than just Jacob's English homework.

And to be honest, she didn't mind.

* * *

Early Saturday morning, she was awoken by an image of Sarah and her children crowding the home screen on her phone. She fumbled for the phone on her bedside table, fighting with the charging cord, blinking away the sleep fog.

"Hello?" she said groggily.

"Okay, I have exactly fifty-two seconds before we get to McDonald's and I have to take these evil Satan spawns inside to pick out a happy meal."

"Why do you do this to yourself?"

"Because I decided to take these two grocery shopping with me this morning so my wonderful, hardworking husband could sleep and now I hate him and myself and whoever thought stacking pickle jars in a display where toddlers could reach was a good idea." Sarah huffed. "Now my ice cream is melting in the back seat, but I don't even care because it took thirty-five minutes to pack my groceries with two kids helping me and I want to cry. So I'm going to eat an Oreo McFlurry and I don't care."

"Breathe, Sarah."

"I am. I'll breathe better with sugar. Now tell me something good."

"There really is nothing to report yet. You'll know when there is."

"Seriously, Es?" She groaned. "The golden arches are calling me."

Esme could hear a chorus of excited squeals coming from the back of Sarah's van. "Well, he's a good kisser. That much I can tell you." She smirked at Sarah's sharp and dramatic inhale.

"Esme Anne Platt!"

"Goodbye, Sarah, give the kids kisses from me. I'll talk to you later."

Esme hung up. She knew it was pure evil, but there was currently a very handsome man standing at the end of her bed with his head tilted curiously, a smile spreading across his face, and she wasn't prepared to reveal more than that while he was here listening.

"Now who would this good kisser be?" he asked as she sat up, stretching her waking limbs.

"No one you know," she said.

"So I have competition?"

"I don't kiss and tell."

Carlisle had crossed the room and tackled her to the bed before she even realized he had moved. She giggled against him as his fingers found her waist, tickling her sides in retaliation. "I give up," she laughed, squirming beneath him.

His fingers stilled, only to worm their way into her sprawling hair, which was now tossed messily across the pillows.

"So," he said, "what are your plans for today?"

"Well, I should do some lesson prep." Esme covered a yawn, and looked at him. "Why?"

"I want to take you home with me, to meet the kids. Properly meet them."

Suddenly she wasn't tired anymore. "Oh—"

"You don't want to?"

"No, it's just . . . don't you think it's a bit soon?"

"You've already been teaching them all semester, but now that you know about us, they don't have to hide who they are. Besides, it's only a matter of time before Alice ambushes you. She's been going stir crazy this week because of the sun."

Esme chuckled. "Well, when you put it that way."

"It makes sense?"

She tapped his elbow and he rolled to the side. "Just let me get dressed."

The first thing she did was shower. Then, standing in her closet in her dressing gown, she put on jeans and a dark blue sweater. It was far more casual than she would have ever dressed for school, but this wasn't school. And she wasn't trying to impress them as a teacher. Just Esme.

"You look lovely," he said when she reappeared, squeezing the last of the water out of her hair with a towel.

She sat on the edge of her bed, taking up a brush from the bedside table.

"Let me?" Carlisle asked, holding his hand out to her.

She placed the brush in his palm and shifted so he could reach the back of her head. His movements were gentle and she let her eyes drift closed to the lulling motion.

"All done," he whispered, sweeping her hair over her shoulder to press a lingering kiss to the back of her neck.

"You're much too good at that. Have the girls kept you busy with hair tutorials all these years?"

"Goodness no, Rosalie would be irate. But I once had a lesson in the finer art of painting nails. I think I prefer surgery."

Esme laughed and rolled her eyes. "Women."

Carlisle reached around her and pulled her face to his. "Women indeed," he whispered before pressing his lips to hers. It was a long while later before they finally made their way out to her car.

Seeing as Carlisle had apparently been on a hiking trip with his family all week, Esme drove alone as she made her way through town. Carlisle joined her as she turned off of the main road, heading out to the Cullen residence.

"You know, I've heard picking up strange men on the side of the road can be dangerous," she told him as he got into the passenger seat.

"Especially near prisons."

"There's no prison out here."

"No, but I've read the statistics on them. The amount of people that stop for hitchhikers is appalling. Please tell me you never have."

Esme laughed. "Afraid I'll pick up someone crazy?"

"I am now."

They both looked at each other, breaking off into a chorus of laughter. When they stopped, Carlisle pointed out an almost invisible turn in the trees.

Esme followed the long, winding drive, pulling up in front of a sprawling glass-windowed home in the middle of the forest. "Wow," she muttered, cutting the ignition and gaping at the house before her. "This is where you live?"

"Do you like it?"

"It's marvellous."

Carlisle nodded. "Alice will be pleased you think so. She helped design it."


	17. Chapter 17

As far as making a good first impression—which was really a second first impression—Alice thought they were doing incredibly well; that was, until Emmett made that stupid joke about having Esme over as dinner. Not _for_ dinner, but to _be_ dinner.

She'd literally felt the air seep from the room as everyone—Carlisle included—narrowed their eyes at him. The woman was already handling the whole vampire-boyfriend-with-vampire-children-who-were-only-pretending-to-be-students thing really well. The last thing they needed to do was draw attention to how very human she was as they greeted her in the living room.

"Tell me what she's thinking," Alice demanded once she had gathered everyone, sans Carlisle and Esme, in the front sitting room. "I need to know."

"They're up in his study," Edward commented, his eyes pensive. "He's giving her the tour."

"The tour," Emmett mimed and Alice whacked him with a pillow. "I will destroy you for this."

"I'll help," Jasper added casually, flipping through a magazine.

Emmett smirked. "You just like the emotional high you're getting from Carlisle right now."

Bella sighed from her perch on the arm of Edward's chair. "Can you at least try to make a good impression?"

"Hey, people love me. I'm endearing." Emmett turned to Rosalie. "Right, babe?"

Rosalie hummed, trading car magazines with Jasper. She was lounging on the sofa, her golden blonde hair spilling over the side of the cushion in loose rings. "You did joke about eating the love of Carlisle's life, babe. I think you're on your own for this one."

"It was a joke to lighten the mood." Emmett groaned. "She thought it was hilarious."

"She did laugh," Edward agreed.

"But what was she thinking?" Alice begged again.

"Honestly, I missed it because I was bombarded by all of you mentally murdering Emmett. By the time I'd focused on her, she'd become distracted by other things."

"Alright, well, it can't really get any worse than this, right?" Alice said, scanning the future with her lips pursed. She pressed her fingertips to her temples and really tried to focus. As long as she saw glimpses of Carlisle and Esme together later in the week, it meant today was a success.

"Course not," Emmett said. "Baring someone doesn't actually have her for dinner, we're good."

Alice broke from her trance suddenly, bodily throwing herself at Emmett this time, and it was only with both Jasper and Edward that they managed to pry her off him.

Rosalie grinned from her spot on the sofa as Emmett fixed the collar of his shirt.

"If you screw this up for Carlisle," Alice warned, "the Volturi will look like paradise."

"To be fair, he waved a knife at Bella the first time she visited, and she's still here," Rosalie said. She turned her head to eye Bella. "Though I always thought you were crazy."

"Exactly," Emmett said. "Everyone just calm down." He found a football stuffed behind one of the sofas and tossed it to Jasper. "It's overcast. Wanna play?"

"Sure."

"Good idea," Alice said, herding everyone into the yard where Emmett would hopefully cause less damage.

* * *

Esme watched the yard from the oval window at the peak of the house. She'd been exploring Carlisle's study for the better part of an hour, finding everything fascinating. He'd indulged her every whim and question, pulling her down to the cozy sofa by the fireplace to let her leaf through his leather bound books.

"And where did you get this one?"

"Italy."

"You have a lot of things from Italy," she'd mused.

"I spent a good part of my immortal life there. There is a lot of history that came with me when I left."

She could hear Emmett's booming laugh from outside and had joined Carlisle at the window to see the others spill out onto the lawn. Emmett wound up and hurled a football clear across the yard to Jasper.

"I can't even see it," she remarked, impressed but not surprised.

Carlisle pressed his lips to her temple. "They're showing off for you."

Esme studied the couples in action. It was an odd feeling, having to replace what she had come to think of as each of them in her mind. It helped that Carlisle spoke so freely of them when he was with her. But today had been her first time getting to know the real Cullen's.

Emmett, for his part, happened to be absolutely authentic. He was perhaps less reserved than the cheeky boy she'd come to know at school, which only made sense seeing as he was surrounded by the safety of his family at home. Yet, she also saw an adoring husband. Despite his juvenile sense of humour, he looked at Rosalie like she was the most mesmerizing piece of art he'd ever come across.

And there was no denying that Rosalie was absolutely stunning. Esme was pleasantly surprised to find, however, that although she had a fiery personality, she could take a joke, doling them out to her siblings on occasion. Her sense of humour was subtle, but enough to handle Emmett.

Alice had been no surprise, really. She was just as friendly and bubbly as she had been the few times she spoke candidly to her at school, only now it was like there was an invisible barrier she had been allowed to cross. Though everyone was more than friendly, Alice had been the only one to actually touch her, pulling Esme into a tight hug as soon as she walked through the door.

The act had made Jasper stiffen, but he quickly relaxed at the sight of Alice's beaming smile. She had taken his hand after that, pressing a kiss to his knuckles.

Together they made quite the pair, Alice small and spirited; Jasper stoic and reserved. It was almost as if her energy seemed to be contained by him, like he fed off of her emotion. It was then Esme remembered what Carlisle had told her about Jasper's unique talent and it all made a bit more sense.

The last of the group was Bella and Edward who were an enigma in and of themselves. They were both so very young, and yet moved around each other, two magnets forever pulling on the other, like they had been that way for eternity.

She turned from the window to regard Carlisle. He wore an expression of contentment as he watched his family below. It was then that she had a pang of sympathy for him, having had existed as the odd man out all these years. It was clear the others looked up to him and he assumed the parental role in public as well as to a degree within the family structure, but she wondered how many afternoons he had spent up here, watching the wonders of love unfold from the sidelines.

She reached out for his hand, squeezing it gently. "Would you like to join them?" she wondered.

Carlisle looked delighted at her suggestion and she guessed he had been letting her get used to the family before forcing their company any more than they already had. The truth was she enjoyed being around Carlisle's family. She had always wanted a big family, always wanted to be a mother, and despite the way her life had started, she couldn't help but feel that maybe fate had always been working in her favour. Yes, there were some things that she'd rather not have lived through, but she couldn't deny the good things that had come into her life since then.

"Emmett hasn't scared you too badly, has he?"

"Not yet," Esme assured him. "But let's give him another chance, shall we?"

* * *

"Is she frightened?" Alice wondered, staring up at the small oval window where Carlisle and Esme stood talking. They'd been in his study most of the afternoon and though she'd tried to keep things calm, the football game between Emmett and Jasper had quickly devolved into the typical vampire madness.

Competition was not something their kind easily steered away from and though Emmett's brawn easy outshone any of theirs, Jasper's cunning and skill made them fairly evenly matched. Rosalie, Bella, and Edward jumped in every few plays to shake things up a bit, while Alice preferred to keep watch from the porch. It wouldn't be the first time they'd had to replace it because someone got a little too out of hand. If Esme was going to be around to any degree now, they were all going to have to remember to take it easy, much like they had when Bella first started coming around.

"Oddly no. Maybe slightly overwhelmed, but she's taking it all quite well." Edward smirked. "She's very intuitive. She also keeps apologizing for me being in her head."

"I remember those days," Alice said. "I gave up after a while."

Rosalie crossed her arms, coming to stand by them. "I remember thinking that Edward should just mind his own business."

"Yes, I remember those days fondly," Edward said wryly.

"Hey, if he wants to see whats going on inside my head, then who am I to stop him," Emmett said, racing over to make a catch that almost sent him sprawling into the steps.

Edward winced. "Can you not? We have company. And they're coming down to join us, so behave."

"When do I not?" Emmett complained, firing the ball back across the yard. Jasper dove off a tree to make the catch, sending him sprawling into the ground with so much force they felt the vibration through the porch beams.

* * *

Esme felt the tremor beneath her feet as she stepped out onto the large wrap around deck that circled the back of the house. There was a flurry of dust in the distance where Jasper was knocking the debris from his clothing, a wide smile on his face.

Carlisle's arm looped around her back, his hand resting on her hip beneath her coat. It was chilly out, though the light snow they'd had yesterday had already melted away, leaving the barren earth visible and the deep dirt tracks left in the ground by Emmett as Jasper ploughed into him. A sound like a gunshot rang out and Esme looked around, noting for the first time just how deep into the woods the property actually was.

She had driven through the dense trees for several minutes after turning off the main road before even reaching the house. Although the property was technically in Forks, the house was set so deep into the woods that it was easy to feel like no one else existed out here. And considering some roughhousing between the boys sounded like thunder claps, perhaps that was a good thing.

Alice dance over beside her, grinning at Carlisle before taking Esme's hand and leading her to the wide stairway that led to the ground. "I'm really glad you came," she said.

"Me too."

"I was hoping Emmett didn't scare you away."

"Of course not," Esme chuckled.

Alice beamed.

Hearing his name, Emmett wandered over, looking pleased with himself.

Jasper caught him off guard though, tackling him hard, and Esme gasped as Emmett crashed through one of the large boulders that dotted the edge of the lawn. He emerged a moment later, shaking pieces of stone from his curly hair, looking slightly miffed and even a little surprised. Jasper snickered, already on the other end of the property again. The rock shards had cut into the sweatshirt Emmett wore, leaving tangled strings of fabric handing from his wrists. Throwing Jasper a look, Emmett rolled his sleeves up, retrieving the football from where it had landed when he'd been tackled.

"Are you okay?" Esme asked him.

Emmett laughed, rubbing a hand through his hair. "Carlisle explained the whole indestructible thing to you, right?"

"Of course he did." She felt Carlisle kiss the top of her head. "I was talking about your pride, dear."

Edward roared from the other end of the yard, laughing so hard Bella just stared at him, her mouth slightly open.

Emmett looked at Esme in shock, before breaking into a wide grin and scooping her off the steps to spin her in a circle. When he put her down, she was rather dizzy. Carlisle caught her by the elbow, then wrapped his arm around her front to pull her to him, settling her between his knees on the step below him once more.

Emmett laughed along with Edward now. "Welcome to the sassy lady club, Carlisle. I hope you know what you're doing."

Rosalie rolled her eyes, coming to sit by Alice. "Ignore him. People usually do."

"Aw, babe, c'mon. Be nice." Emmett winked at Esme before rushing off to join the game again.

They sat on the porch together for a little while longer, watching the game unfold. Both Rosalie and Alice eventually fell victim to Emmett's good humour and were roped into playing a more structured game, facing off against Edward and Bella. Even sitting closer, Esme still couldn't see the ball most of the time, just the aftermath of the plays, which often sent one of the boys crashing through a tree or a boulder.

Alice and Edward brought an intensity to their strange form of strategy, sometimes just staring at each other for minutes until one of them burst out laughing.

"I don't understand," Esme whispered, tilting her head up to see Carlisle.

He pecked her nose with his lips, nuzzling his face into her hair. "Alice is seeing what's about to happen and Edward is living it through her thoughts. You should see them play chess. Sometimes the entire game happens in their heads, one of them eventually just laying their king down on the board."

"Amazing," Esme whispered, considering the implications of having a mind like that. She couldn't believe she'd even thought she was actually teaching these kids anything in school. In fact, high school must be an especially dull pursuit for them. It was really a testament to how much they wanted to live this lifestyle. How dedicated they were to blending in with society. Now she understood the hobbies and extracurricular activities they all pursued in their off time: piano, and cars, and online university courses. To have a mind capable of learning and absorbing to that extent and then an eternity to fill it . . . she didn't even know what she'd begin to study first. Languages perhaps . . . she had always wanted to travel.

"That's nothing," Emmett said, making a pass of the porch. "If you really want to see a game, you should see us all play baseball."

"I bet you cheat," Esme said.

"Me?" Emmett gaped at her before pointing directly at Edward and Alice. "You wound me, Esme."

"Hmm," she mumbled.

"Call it as you see it, Esme," Jasper yelled from the other end of the yard. He gave Emmett a wicked grin before the two of them disappeared in a flash of feet.

It must have been a peculiar place to be, trapped in these young, never-changing bodies, but with the wisdom that came from years of life lived. It was nice to see that despite all that, sometimes they could just act exactly as a couple of eighteen-year-olds would.

Esme leaned against Carlisle. "Do you play baseball, too?"

"Of course. I'm not just good with a stethoscope, you know."

Esme giggled as he tickled her sides. "That's something I'd like to see one day."

"Then you shall; we just have to wait for a good storm."

She frowned at him.

"To cover the noise," he explained. He looked towards the trees suddenly, catching her hand. "Come with me."

The sun was just beginning to set as she followed him across the yard. She had no idea where the time had gone; hours spent with Carlisle seemed to slip by in pockets of bliss. He pulled her deep into the woods surrounding the property, swinging her onto his back like she weighed nothing. Considering the boulders Emmett and Jasper had been tossing around, perhaps the comparison was appropriate.

"Hold on tight," he said to her, before scaling one of the bulky pine trees.

She gasped, clinging to him, arms and knees locked like a vice as his marble body moved smoothly upwards.

Near the top of the tree, she realized she'd closed her eyes when Carlisle began stroking her cheek. "Open your eyes, love. I promise I won't let you fall."

Esme did, her hands slowly releasing the vice they had around Carlisle's neck. He lowered her to the branch, turning with an unparalleled grace to guide her beside him. She gasped as the branch jostled, but Carlisle smiled in assurance. She was safe with him.

"You know, I fell from a tree as a girl."

"Did you?"

"Yes, and broke my leg." She tapped the spot just below her knee, making sure to cling to him the entire time.

"And what were you doing in a tree?"

"Talking with the birds."

Carlisle laughed.

"It's not funny," Esme said. A gust of wind whipped by them and she huddle closer to Carlisle. "It was a very important conversation from what I recall."

"You amaze me, you know that?"

"With my strange human stories?"

"No, because despite everything, you still look for the beauty in the world. People like that are a rare find. Some of the very best people, if I may be so bold." He pressed a soft kiss to her forehead. "And just so you know, you dazzle me as well."

Esme grinned, but Carlisle turned her slowly, and her grin fell away.

The sight-line behind them was endless, glorious hues of amber and gold, thinning along the grey horizon, broken only by the lime tips of the evergreens as the sun dipped below them.

"It's wonderful," Esme gasped, desperate to see it all. "I can't imagine ever settling for another sunset ever again."

"Then you won't have to."

She looked at him suddenly. His golden eyes studied hers with an intensity that made her shiver, his hand moulding to cradle her face.

"I love you, Esme. And if it's sunsets you want, then you'll have it. Anything. Everything. Ask and it's yours."

In that moment, the air in her lungs didn't feel like enough. Nothing seemed like enough in comparison to what he offered her. The words she felt riding the edge of her tongue couldn't possibly be enough to repay the weight of his promises and devotion, but it was the only thing she had to give him.

Her fingers curled into the seams of his shirt as she pulled him closer and whispered, "I love you, too."


	18. Chapter 18

Since that day, watching the Cullen's play their version of football in their yard, Esme had been spending an increasing amount of time at their house. After spending the day with them, she had recognized how much Carlisle cherished the time with his family and how much they all relied on him; it was easy to see that he was at his happiest with them all there, so the decision had been easy. Carlisle had been dividing so much of his time between the hospital and her apartment, that when he'd asked if she'd like to spend the afternoons after school at the house, she'd agreed in a heart beat.

So almost a week later, Esme sat at the large island counter of the Cullen kitchen, the marble cool under her fingertips as she worried a red pen in her mouth. She was trying to catch up on her marking—the never ending pursuit of a teacher—pausing as she came to Edward's test paper.

He must have heard his name in her head because a moment later he and Bella poked their heads into the kitchen.

"Esme, can I make you something?" Bella wondered.

"I'm fine, dear, really. Don't trouble yourself."

"You'd be doing her a favour," Edward admitted. He nodded to the sunny streak that melted over the porch in the early afternoon. "We're home bound for the next several hours."

Esme smirked. "Surprise me?"

Bella clapped her hands together and began rifling through the cupboards.

Esme turned Edward's test paper over, studying the thin smile on his face. He sat across from her at the island, holding up the recipe card Bella had retrieved from the cupboard over the fridge as she dashed around the kitchen just a bit too quickly for a human.

"Love," Edward murmured, "slow down."

Bella gave Esme a sheepish grin. "I still forget sometimes."

As the newest member of the Cullen's, Bella was still trying to adjust to the restraints placed upon them in order to live among humans, but as far as Esme had seen she was doing remarkably well, and it gave Esme hope for the future. . . maybe . . . one day.

Edward's brows shot up.

 _Please don't mention anything to Carlisle, Edward. I'm still trying to sort out the thoughts myself._

Edward gave her a sympathetic smile. "I understand completely. It was not that long ago Bella and I were in the same place."

 _Thank you._

She held up his test paper for him to see. "Now, what exactly do you mean you don't know what an example of pathetic fallacy is in Macbeth? Were you not the one who defined the term in class for me?"

Edward grinned at her. "We take certain liberties not to stand out any more than we already do. As long as I have a higher average than Emmett, that's all that matters."

"Yeah right, Eddie boy. I'm going to smoke you this term." Unable to resist, Emmett strolled into the kitchen, pulling up a stool between them. "Mark my test yet?"

"Yes, actually, and I appreciated all the illustrations you added to highlight your answers."

"I've perfected my big battle sequences."

"There is no big battle sequence in Hamlet," Edward said, looking at Emmett in confusion.

"There should have been. That would have put more butts in the seats." He looked at Esme. "Tell me I'm wrong?"

"Perhaps people in the 17th century appreciated blood and gore to the same extent audiences do today," Esme said diplomatically. "I couldn't really say."

"Fair, we'll ask someone who was actually there. Carlisle might have known Shakespeare."

Edward snorted. "Not likely."

"But he was alive back then. We'll ask him."

"Ask him what?"

They all turned to see Carlisle in the doorway, shrugging out of his jacket. He crossed the kitchen and Esme grinned as he pressed a kiss to her temple. "Hello," he murmured into her hair, inhaling deeply.

"Save it for the bedroom," Emmett crowed.

Bella threw an apple at him from across the kitchen. "Take some of your own advice lately?"

Emmett caught it easily and smirked. "You're lucky you can't blush anymore, little Bella."

"How was school?" Carlisle asked.

"Good," Esme began.

"But you've got competition, Carlisle." Emmett pointed at Esme. "The history teacher is trying to move in on your woman."

Edward groaned into his hands.

"Mr. Daniels? Honestly, Emmett, he's just being friendly."

"Friendly, flirty . . ." Emmett held his hands up. "Is there really a difference?"

"Yes," Bella said, leaning against the counter as she waited for the oven to preheat for the meatloaf she had been preparing. "You can be just friends with a guy. It's entirely possible."

"Don't get me started on Mike Newton, Bella-kins." Edward growled and Emmett smirked. "My point exactly.

Esme opened her mouth to respond as Rosalie joined Emmett in the kitchen. "I heard growling. Are you starting drama again?"

Emmett hugged her to his side. "Obviously; do you know me at all?"

Rosalie laughed. "I do. And that's exactly why I came downstairs."

Carlisle cleared his throat, looking pointedly at Esme. She gaped, feeling his hands curl against her waist from behind. He leaned close, his words tickling her ear. "I'd very much like to hear about this flirty history teacher, love."

"There's nothing to tell," Esme said. She looked at the kids for help. "He's just a colleague."

"That's how it starts," Emmett said and they all laughed.

Rosalie walked around the counter to inspect the meatloaf. "You're sure this is edible."

Bella rolled her eyes. "Yes. And you really have nothing to worry about, Carlisle. Mr. Daniels is harmless."

"Yeah," Rosalie agreed. "Esme's heartbeat doesn't even quiver when he tries to pull the moves on her."

"Rosalie?" Esme admonished, unable to conceal her grin.

Rosalie raised one perfectly arched brow. "Did I lie?"

"Well, no. Of course not."

"Right. Now that we've establish Esme does not have feelings for the history teacher, can we please go hunting? Alice said the sun is about to disappear and we've been stuck in the house all day."

"I'm in," Emmett agreed immediately.

Edward nodded and Bella put the meatloaf in the oven. She turned to Esme. "That'll be done in about forty minutes."

"Thank you, dear. That was really kind of you."

Bella grinned.

"Carlisle?" Rosalie asked, staring pointedly at her nails.

"I hunted on the way home from the hospital, so I'll stay and keep Esme company."

"Of course," she said smoothly. "We'll be on our way then. See you later Esme."

"Now you two kids be good," Emmett warned. "No hanky panky or we'll have to leave Eddie boy here to supervise." Edward and Bella grabbed him by the arms, dragging him from the kitchen.

"Emmett, I am not above throwing fruit at you," Carlisle warned and Esme could hear the boy snickering all the way through the house.

The back door opened and closed once. Esme watched as the couples disappeared into the surrounding trees just as the sun dipped behind a dark string of clouds.

"Finally," Carlisle murmured, spinning her stool to face him. He placed his hands on the counter on either side of her, leaning close enough she could feel his breath along her face. "Hello," he whispered again.

She tilted her head, regarding him. "How was the hospital?"

He'd been called in urgently after a multi-vehicle collision that happened just outside of Forks. It had been a four AM phone call and he was just getting in now. On any other man she'd be tracing away tired lines from beneath sunken eyes. Yet Carlisle looked just as flawless as he always did, though perhaps the dark gold of his eyes gave him away. He was still thirsty.

"It was a drunk driver," he sighed. "We managed to stabalize everyone in the vehicle he hit; if they pull through tonight, it looks promising, though they'll need some extensive physical therapy as they recover."

"And the driver?"

Carlisle shook his head. Then he caught her chin between his fingertips. His face fell into something sad and broken. Esme frowned. "What is it?"

"It's just lately, with this job . . . sometimes I'm reminded of how very human you are."

"Please don't dwell on it," she said. It was a truth she didn't want him worry himself over. Her mortality was a line in their relationship that they had yet to cross. She was very aware of the fact that Carlisle—in his never changing body—would long outlive her. But she wasn't interested in that yet, only the reality of the moment. In getting to know Carlisle. In getting to love him right now. She had spent many nights praying for a future that only ever seemed to grow more distant, so she'd come to appreciate the good things life gave her as they happened. And she wanted them to enjoy this time together, not dwell on facts that both of them were powerless to change at the moment. Maybe time would give them different options, but for right now, Esme was just happy to have Carlisle all to herself for a little while. She smiled up at him. "Besides, you love your job. And speaking from experience, you're so very good at it."

"Oh, is that so?"

His worries weren't quite assuaged as he bent to kiss her and she brushed her thumb over his cheek in resignation. "Are you sure you shouldn't go hunt some more with the others?"

"I'll hunt later. I want to spend time with you now." He glanced down at the stack of test papers she still had to mark. "Are you very busy?"

"I think I could be persuaded to take a break," she teased.

He finally closed the distance and kissed her properly, pulling back enough to whisper, "Good."

* * *

Sometime over the last half hour they'd relocated to the couch in the sitting room.

Esme felt the soft press of the cushions beneath her head as Carlisle turned his face, tracing her cheek bone with the edge of his nose. She used the moment to catch her breath, watching as Carlisle stilled suddenly, turning his head.

"Bella's meatloaf is done," he murmured.

As Esme sat up on her elbows, the oven timer beeped and Carlisle stood, pulling her to her feet. "How did you know?" she wondered.

"I could smell it."

"Ah," she said, following him back to the kitchen. "What's that like anyway? You're highly attuned to the scent of blood, so do other things just smell bad? Does human food smell as unappealing as it tastes to you?"

"Surprisingly no. Our sense of smell is particularly sensitive. Blood is something we crave to survive and because of that it smells inherently good to us. But other smells are just as nice. Citrus. Coffee. Chocolate. It just doesn't taste like anything because our body doesn't require it as part of survival. Still, I can appreciate that Bella's meatloaf turned out as well as she hoped."

He stopped beside the oven and bent down to remove the tray. Esme almost balked at the fact he didn't use oven mitts, some programmed part of her cringing at the thought of hot metal on flesh, but Carlisle put the tray on the top of the stove to cool and she grasped his hands, studying the perfect flesh in her palms. "That was decidedly not human."

"I forgot myself," he murmured, pulling her close. "You distracted me."

"I don't think I'm the one doing the distracting," she mused.

"You, my love, are entirely too tempting for your own good."

Esme rolled her eyes.

Carlisle shook his head at her dismissal, pushing a stray curl behind her ear. "You don't see yourself the way other people do."

She turned away from him, his tone so very honest.

There were parts of her past—parts of her life with Charles—that she was still working through. It was hard to build yourself back up after living with someone who worked to tear you down. Sometimes Carlisle's silent praises and affections still felt too good to be true. Sometimes she didn't feel like they belonged to her. That was one of the burdens she still carried, though the load was getting lighter.

To his credit, Carlisle never pried into her past, though each day she grew bold enough to share different parts of herself with him.

"I'll spend a lifetime telling you," he promised. "Until you do. But right now I think you should eat something."

They settled in at the kitchen island, their stools separated by mere inches. Esme's leg dangled near Carlisle's shin and he moved to caress the side of her foot as she ate. Bella was a genius in the kitchen, Esme decided, and made a mental note to remind herself to thank her.

She continued marking tests as she ate, while Carlisle pencilled in appointments and consults into his work planner. They had discovered early on how easy it was to become distracted in each other. How easy it was to lose track of time completely. Because of this they'd had to make a conscious effort to be sure they both still kept up their respective responsibilities regarding work and, in Carlisle's case, his family.

"Is everyone passing?" he asked a while later.

"If you're referring to your children, then yes, Doctor Cullen. Everyone is doing just fine."

"Thank you, Ms. Platt," he teased.

He distracted her with a kiss and the check mark she'd been about to make came out as a squiggle. She laughed as he pressed his nose into her hair.

"There is something I've been meaning to ask you," he said.

"Oh?"

"How would you feel about accompanying me to the Forks General Winter Gala?"

Of all the things she thought he might say, that was not what she had expected. She didn't even know the hospital held a gala. Though how would she, seeing as this was her first winter in Forks. Besides, the idea was not unappealing. It would be an evening spent with Carlisle, and if precedent was anything to go by, she always enjoyed herself.

She smiled up at his eager look.

"It's not a big deal, really, but it is the most extravagant event Forks sees all year and it makes a great deal of money for the hospital. I often make an appearance, if only to show my support." He pulled out two tickets that had been marking a page in his planner, holding them between his fingers. "This is the first year I've had someone I wanted to accompany me." His smile was decidedly charming in that moment, though he must have known that he'd already convinced her. "So, will you come?"

"Oh, Carlisle . . . I'd love to. Of course." She took the offered ticket. "When is it?"

"The end of the month."

 _The end of the month_ , she mused. That would be in about . . . _a week_. Her eyes were wide as she looked up. "So soon?"

"I would have asked earlier, but to be honest the entire thing slipped my mind until I was cornered about not picking up my ticket by human resources. I admit my life has been rather busy lately," he grinned, "though I think this is one instance where I wouldn't mind giving up a little more of my time."

"Exactly how fancy is this event?"

"Well—"

"This is excellent," Alice sang as she strolled into the kitchen. Her eyes glowed, evidence of a successful hunting trip, as she slipped her arm through Esme's, beaming with all her teeth. The girl really didn't miss a beat. "Now we have an excuse to go shopping. I think you'd look lovely in blue . . ." she froze for a moment, "no, wait, green. It'll match your eyes perfectly and your hair . . . ah, I can see it now." She danced away suddenly, distracted by the promise of online shopping.

"I guess that answers my question," Esme said, staring after Alice with amusement.

"I'm really not sure who you've just made happier," Carlisle teased. He took her hand in his and lifted it to his lips, pressing a firm kiss above her knuckles.

They both looked at each other, containing their laughter.

"Alice," they answered in unison.


	19. Chapter 19

As the end of the month neared, Esme found herself suddenly swamped with finals preparation. Although there was still time before the semester would end, there were exams that needed to be finalized, cumulative tasks to be assigned before winter break, and report cards that were desperately calling her name.

Part of keeping herself sane was not leaving all her work until the end of the term. No doubt she'd drown under all the paperwork if she did. And though Carlisle could stay up to all hours of the night writing up patient reports, she couldn't.

Now that she thought about it, the concept of never sleeping was quite intriguing.

She pushed that thought aside, however, getting back to her marking and listening to the quiet page turning of her class. She'd given them all a passage to read and subsequent questions to answer.

Edward was smiling at her, evidently perusing her thoughts.

 _Are you finished?_

He flashed her his worksheet and grinned.

It was quite clear that Bella and Alice were finished as well, though they were doing a better job of hiding the fact. Edward rolled his eyes, though he grinned at her all the same.

She could hear the restless murmurs of distracted teenagers as the hour drew to a close. Frankly, she was just as ready for the day to be over. One more period to go and she'd be free for the weekend.

Esme let out a breath as the bell rang, standing and reminding her class to review the last chapter of Macbeth for the quiz they may or may not be having on Monday. Conversations picked up as the class herded out the door, calling greetings to their friends.

Edward and Bella waved discreetly as they fell to the back of the crowd, while Alice danced right up to her desk. It was becoming a common occurrence as of late, but Alice was careful not to draw attention to herself.

Jasper appeared in the doorway, waiting on Alice. He grinned at Esme and she felt a rush of calm infuse her limbs and she collapsed into her desk chair. For a brief moment the weight of tests and assignments and report cards completely fell away as she struggled to remember just why she'd felt so stressed lately. She recognized the fuzziness of Jasper's influence and shot him a look.

"Oh bother," Alice said as she paced in front of Esme's desk, casting a glance over her shoulder towards the hall.

"What is it?"

Alice smiled gently. "Just a lost cause. We'll see you later. Oh, wait—" she tilted her head and Esme recognized the flash of a vision in the twist of her lips. "Carlisle is coming to pick you up after school. Edward and Bella will drive your car back to our place, which actually works out perfectly since your dress for the gala will arrive this afternoon. You can try it on while you're over, that way everything will be perfect for next Friday."

She held her hand out patiently, beaming that incredibly bubbly smile of hers.

Esme sighed and shook her head as she riffled under her desk for her purse, fishing for her keys. "I'm not sure I'll ever get used to this."

Jasper chuckled lightly. "It's best not to think too hard about it. We'll see you in a few hours."

Esme waved them off just as the first students from her next period arrived. They piled in, eager for the day to be done, and Esme willingly let them go five minutes early. She used the time to make her way to the staff room, uninterrupted, before the rest of the classes let out for the day. She'd checked her mail box and returned half a dozen emails from the staff room computer before her colleagues even started passing through; some wished her a good weekend, others pulled up a chair at the oblong table in the center of the room to finish last bits of paperwork before heading home for the weekend.

Once the noise in the hall had died down, Esme figured most of the students had made their way outside and it was probably safe for her to enter the hall. Tammi had shown her first hand what happened to teachers who thought they could navigate the hallway separating a student from the parking lot on a Friday afternoon by showing up the next week with a shiner.

Tammi had laughed it off after giving the football team an earful about not throwing passes in the hallway, but Esme was more than willing to wait the fifteen minutes for the hallways to clear. After all, she'd already spent one evening in the hospital since the school year began, so she didn't feel like adding to that unnecessarily. Plus Emmett would never let her hear the end of it, never mind the fact that Carlisle would fret endlessly.

She said goodbye to the few colleagues who looked like they had settled in for the next hour or so, and pushed her way out of the staff room, zipping up her coat as she headed through the main atrium, towards the side door to the parking lot. It wasn't often that Carlisle picked her up from the school, but the few times he had, he'd been waiting in the same spots that were usually reserved for the Cullen's during the day. Perhaps the thought was that putting all the fancy cars in the same space would draw less attention to them.

Esme didn't know if that worked, per say, not that she cared much for cars, especially when it was the man driving the car that held most of her attention.

She spied Carlisle's black Mercedes out the window as she passed the lower stairwell, already smiling at the thought of seeing him. It had quickly become apparent to her just how much she missed him when they were apart.

Suddenly the hallway was filled with the echo of feet and Esme turned to see Jeremy Daniels racing down the hall, clutching his shoulder bag as he hurried to catch up with her. She smiled politely, slowing down to wait for him.

"Heading out?" she asked.

"Definitely. Today was a long one."

She nodded as he fell in step beside her.

"Plans for the weekend?"

"I'm not sure," Esme mused. "I'll have to see how the marking goes."

"Ah, yeah, it's that time of year again."

They both laughed in that way that spoke of the shared exhaustion that came with pre-winter break preparation.

"Esme," he caught her hand as they stepped out onto the concrete steps leading to the parking lot. "I was really hoping I'd catch you before the end of the day."

"Well," she said, looking across the parking lot to where Carlisle waited. She turned back to Jeremy and smiled, though confusion coloured her voice. "You did?"

"Right. Uh, great." Jeremy looked away suddenly, then back to her, his gaze jumping all over the place. "So, anyway, I was thinking, or, er, wondering really . . . you know the hospital gala that's coming up?" He waved his hand, the pace of his words increasing. "It's like the most eventful thing that ever happens in Forks, I know. And not really my usual scene. But I have an extra ticket this year and was wondering if you might want to go with me?"

"Oh," she said. This is what Alice must have meant earlier about a lost cause. She felt sad butterflies pick up in her gut, trying to find the words to let him down gently, though somehow she knew those didn't really exist.

"Oh," he repeated after her, deflating slightly. "Is that a no?"

"It's not . . . I mean, it's just . . . someone's already asked me." She squeezed his hand before pulling her palm delicately away from his, taking a few steps towards Carlisle. "But I'll see you there."

Jeremy backpedal towards the school again, running his hand over the back of his head. "Right, yeah. For sure."

"Goodnight," Esme said, saddened at the awkward look on his face.

Jeremy looked across the parking lot in the direction she was headed, and perhaps it was her imagination, but his eyes narrowed slightly. "Night," he muttered.

When she turned around, Carlisle was no longer sitting in his car but standing with the passenger door held open for her. She neared him and he held his arm out for her.

"Please stop glaring at him," she murmured into his jacket as he captured her in a hug.

Carlisle pressed a kiss to the top of her head. "I'm doing nothing of the sort."

His tone was overly polite and Esme glanced up to see the direction of his gaze. "Please be nice. Nothing happened."

He closed the door as she sat down and was around the front of the car and backing out of the parking lot before she'd even belted herself in. She jostled slightly at the movement of the car and his hand flew out automatically, holding her back against the seat.

He raced down the road on their way to the outskirts of Forks, and though there was no other traffic in sight, Esme felt like her insides were getting ready to make an appearance.

"Carlisle, stop! Please."

He pulled onto the side of the road suddenly, perhaps noting the pale shade of grey she'd turned since getting in the car with him. She sucked in a deep breath, brows threading tightly as she waited for the nausea to pass. When it did, she uncurled her hand from the door handle and looked at him. "Are you okay?"

"I apologize," he said, though he swallowed hard, unable to bring himself to look at her just yet. "We—vampires—are slightly . . . territorial."

"Oh," she gave a brief laugh, "I hadn't noticed."

He tipped his head and they smiled at each other.

"I don't know what came over me," he whispered.

Esme chuckled. "It's called jealousy. Would you like me to define it for you?"

He sighed, clearly disappointed in himself, his face contorted in a kind of frustration. "He did nothing inherently wrong. But when he caught your hand . . . and the idea that he would even ask you—"

"Carlisle," Esme cut him off. "You know this isn't a one sided thing, right? I can't be without you either." He blinked at her and she pulled his hand from the steering wheel to kiss the middle of his palm, his cool flesh tingling against her skin. "So you don't have to worry about some human man trying to ask me out. He's not you. No one will _ever_ be you."

Carlisle surged across the car then and wrapped his fingers in her hair, pulling her close before devouring her in a kiss that sent heat shooting through her in all directions.

Esme breathed into the next kiss, sucking in much needed air as her fingers tangled in the hair at the base of his neck. A hot blush ran up both her arms and she suddenly felt like clawing her jacket off.

Someone honked obscenely and they broke apart with such force that the car shifted slightly as Carlisle crashed into the driver side door.

"Emmett," he growled as the jeep went flying by them.

Esme pressed her fingers to her lips to keep from laughing.

Carlisle sighed, trying not to smile. "The kids would like you to come over for dinner. And I would very much like you there tonight."

"I don't know why they keep insisting on calling it dinner when I'm the only one who eats."

"Bella enjoys cooking," he said. "And she's very good at it. You give her an excuse to use the kitchen again. Besides, after years of immortality, sometimes it's the simple things that are most intriguing."

"Well, how can I say no to having seven vampires stare at me while I eat?"

Carlisle laughed as he pulled the car back onto the road. "You can't, not really. It goes against all the rules of being an appropriate house guest to a bunch of immortals."

"Hmm," Esme mused. "I must have missed that handout. Is that where they covered the cobwebs and crypts and coffins?"

Carlisle's chest shook as he stared out the window. "Will the decrepit vampire jokes ever stop being funny to you?"

"Never. I'm building up an arsenal to use against Emmett."

Carlisle sighed. "You're lucky you're cute."

"Does my stand-up leave something to be desired?" She glanced at him. He wasn't watching the road anymore, but staring at her with the kind of quiet intensity that made her insides shudder. She looked away quickly, occupying herself with the bare trees that rose up along the road as a hot blush crept onto her face.

Sometimes she could feel the strength of his emotions just by looking at him. And sometimes it made her desperately nervous. Even more so when she felt those same emotions reciprocated in herself. There were moments when she felt like this was all too soon—the intense way they'd been moved by each other. But sometimes she felt like there would never be enough time. That she could know Carlisle for lifetimes and it would still not be enough.

When the easy banter and jokes fell away, he stared at her the way she imagined Romeo looked at Juliet—with a love that was worth dying for.

"Esme," he called her softly, reaching over to brush his fingers over her knuckles. He didn't need to say anything else in that moment. Somehow she just knew. And for right now it was enough. Not everything between them had to be filled with words. Sometimes it was just a feeling—and that said far more than she could ever put into words anyway.

When he finally pulled up in front of the sprawling house among the trees, Esme released her seat belt and leaned across the car, wrapping her arms around his chest. Carlisle played with her hair as she breathed him in, his scent distracting and calming all at once.

"Alice would like us to come inside sometime tonight, so you can try on your dress."

"Just a few more minutes," Esme said, not quite ready to let him go yet. How easy it would be to just sit here with him for hours. How content she would feel.

Carlisle brushed his lips across her forehead. "As many as you'd like."

When they finally did move inside, Alice was not there to bombard them as Esme had expected. Part of her wondered if Edward and Bella had held Alice off with the logic that the human had to eat. Esme couldn't ever remember eating as well as she had since Bella started cooking for her. At this point, she rarely ever had to prepare food for herself since there were always leftovers and clearly the rest of the Cullen's weren't going to enjoy them.

"Where is everyone?" she asked as Carlisle helped her slip out of her coat, tossing it over the banister by the front door.

Carlisle opened his mouth to answer just as Emmett and Jasper appeared on the other side of the hall, having raced in through the garage. Though Esme registered the grin on Emmett's face, it was the door slamming behind him that caught her attention in some dark, recessed part of her brain—the place where memories were burned and buried, or at least, she thought.

The wall shuddered with the force of the impact and suddenly Esme was in a very different house with a very different man.

Ice crawled into her veins as the memory hit her like a physical weight, winding her and making her dizzy all at once. Loud noises didn't usually set her off, but something about the door slamming this time did. She suspected it was because she didn't expect it. That's how it always happened with Charles. She never expected the blow because some part of her always thought the next time would be different. Always believed him when he said he was sorry. She'd been that fool that had believed he could change over and over and over.

And she remembered spending nights on the other side of the bathroom door, her back plastered against it as Charles rained down blows on the other side, drunk and belligerent.

She shivered, trying in vain to change the image that appeared on the inside of her eyelids, but she couldn't. Charles had trapped her. Again.

"Esme?" Carlisle said, his voice breaking her from the trance.

She unclenched her eyes, pushing away the memory as quickly as she could, but one look across the room at Edward told her she wasn't fast enough.

 _I'm sorry, Edward_.

He crowded the entrance to the kitchen with Bella, who chewed her lip nervously.

Alice had appeared at the top of the stairs with Rosalie and Emmett and Jasper hovered on the edge of her peripheral.

Edward's fists curled as Esme struggled to change her tangled train of thought. "That man deserves to die," he said.

Bella gasped. "Edward?"

"Love?" Carlisle began, his hand folding against her lower back like a kind of support.

She was ashamed and embarrassed and the room quickly became stifling. The monstrosity of a house suddenly felt far too small. "I'm fine," she murmured, keeping her gaze on the floor. "Just need to clear my head, that's all."

With that she turned on her heel, took her coat from the banister and slipped back out the front door, gasping in a huge breath of cold air as soon as she heard it click shut behind her.

God, she felt so stupid.

And ridiculous.

And breathless.

Why couldn't she catch her breath?

She stumbled towards the railing of the wrap around porch, sliding down against it to sit on the stairs. She clung to the rails like a vice—like if she held tight enough she might be able to sort through the mess of thoughts in her head.

Like she might be able to force the images of Charles from her memory.

It didn't take Carlisle long to appear by her side and she felt a great deal better when he tucked his arm against her. The steady whisper of words from him helped calm her, helped slow the frantic race of her heart and assuage the pointless panic.

"Do you want to go inside?" he asked. "It's warmer."

She shook her head.

"Tell me what you need," he all but begged.

She meant to shake her head. To tell him nothing. That it was fine. That she'd screwed her head on straight again. But what came out instead was a whisper. "To forget," she told him.

Carlisle pulled her closer, until his scent enveloped her.

Sometime later Bella brought her a tea and she clasped the warm mug in her lap. Slowly the memories had sunk back into that abyss in her mind where all her nightmares now lived: the rush of adrenaline had eased away and her hands stopped shaking.

Through it all Carlisle just held her.

Twilight had begun as they sat together, night slowly replacing day.

"It's beautiful out here," she commented. She'd always loved sunsets. That's one thing that hadn't changed. She looked up into his still tortured face when he didn't reply. "Carlisle, please don't fret."

"I'm sorry," he said finally, "for the things you endured at his hands."

"Please, don't—"

"I want you to be able to talk to me," he said. "About the things that scare you and hurt you. I don't want you to be afraid to share those parts of yourself with me because you think it will push me away; because it won't, Esme. I am yours for as long as you'll have me."

She nodded, feeling the tears bubble up in her throat. She laid her head against his chest, pressing her hand where his still heart rested. "If I'd only found you first."

He kissed the top of her head. "You have me now."


	20. Chapter 20

Carlisle could say, without a doubt, that the past couple of months had been the most thrilling of his existence. It had also been the most terrifying and magical and, except for the fact he knew he could no longer dream, part of him still wondered if he'd been trapped in some sort of alternate reality since meeting Esme.

There were still times when he thought she couldn't possibly be real and that he couldn't possibly be this happy, and yet, both were true.

What had started out as some shocking reaction to their first meeting had quickly become a love that Carlisle now couldn't put into words. How quickly his world had shifted to accommodate this woman. How quickly he had come to realize that she was the _one_. She would always be the one.

And yet, what perplexed him even now was how greatly he had been influenced by a human. Of course, he had watched it happen with Edward, but Carlisle had spent centuries in the company of humans and never once had his still heart been jerked awake the way it was for Esme.

It wasn't that he hadn't considered the possibility of finding love, he just always supposed that love would be in a vampire. But he'd met beautiful vampires over the years, even some that shared his passion for humanity, and none had ever become more than simply dear friends. And it wasn't as if human women hadn't made advances over the years—some of them entirely too candidly—it was just that Carlisle had never thought he might come to care for one of them the way he might for one of his own kind.

And then there was Esme.

Now of course, he adored the very human things about her. Every yawn. The way she stretched in bed before waking up. The way her delicate toes curled upon the cold floor. The blush in her cheeks. The thrum of her heart.

But he'd be lying if he said he didn't think about a future—one where Esme was as strong as him, as fast, with crystal skin and unparalleled reflexes. He dreamed of an Esme that could no longer be harmed by the human world. One that would no longer shiver at his touch. He dreamed of an immortal existence with her.

The longer he had her, the more difficult it became for him to imagine one day letting her go.

The thought of losing Esme to her mortality was the one thing that had truly terrified him in a long time. And in those early hours of the morning, when his mind grew still, that darkness fed on that fear, becoming something terrible.

He had spent so much of his existence alone, until he found Edward, and it still haunted him to this day. It was impossible to form any kind of real relationship with a human that could not know of their secret, and even more difficult to exist among traditional vampires for any length of time. Being the oddity he was, Carlisle had lived most of his life isolated and lonely. What he had wanted most was a companion, a family, love.

Somehow, despite what he was, God had smiled upon him and brought him just that. And for this long that has always been enough, even more than he could possibly have hoped for at times—but then he met Esme, and his entire world shifted. The knowledge that she had been the one he'd been waiting for all this time somehow made the past three hundred years so much more bearable. Every hardship, every misstep, every failure suddenly felt like it had been building to her. The universe had meant for them to be together, of that he was certain.

And he couldn't help but feel, that despite having his family, if he were to lose her, he would truly be alone again. But how could he ask her to give up everything for him?

To abandon the human life she'd worked so hard to reclaim?

No, he couldn't possibly do that to her.

He would just have to love her harder, for as long as he had her, even if in the end it would break him. What other choice did he have? Unless she wished it, to let her go now would surely destroy him. Still, to live out the mortal years of her life—watching her draw closer and closer to a place that he could not follow—would also slowly wreck whatever remained of his soul.

But he vowed to savour this time in between.

If he only got to love her for one lifetime, then he would do it right.

* * *

"Is he alright?" Alice whispered. "He's been pacing for almost an hour."

Edward tilted his head from his spot on the sofa; he was not usually one to betray Carlisle's confidence, though when it came to Alice, sometimes it felt like he was simply untangling the thoughts within his own mind. With her gift and his, Edward had developed a very intimate knowledge of the way Alice thought, of the extent of her gift, and of the lengths she travelled to keep their family safe. If there was one person he trusted in the world to keep the intimate knowledge of Carlisle's private fears and desires, it was her.

Edward caught a flash of panic in Alice's mind as she uncovered the fragments of a dark vision. It was dressed in shadow, a grave, and lawn of grass and a marble stone with a familiar name etched into the slate surface.

She gasped, pulling her fingers through her hair, as if it might rid the thoughts from her mind. "What on earth was that?"

"It was murky, we both know that means very little."

"Edward—"

"Did you see the date on the stone? That is very far into the future. Too far to be worrying about it now."

"Why am I seeing things like that? What is he thinking?"

Edward sighed, staring up at the ceiling like he might be able to look right into Carlisle's study and see the man hunched over in his chair, his head in his hands. "Of her—like always. Only there's been a darker tone to his thoughts lately. Esme's humanity has become very apparent to him."

"Oh," Alice said quietly and Edward watched the pattern of thoughts form in her head as she played out his meaning. "I haven't seen her as one of us. Not yet."

"He won't ask her. He's resolved not to."

"So he's settled on that one future then? Of saying goodbye one day?"

"What other choice is there?" Edward said.

Alice sat next to him, running her thin hands over her knees. "One where he's happy. One with Esme." She lifted her hands in resignation. "A forever with Esme. I refuse to believe it will be anything but that."

"It's hard loving a human," Edward said, "knowing you want this life for them because it's the only way to keep them. To protect them. When Carlisle found me, I was already dying and my mother begged it of him. In a crude way, he'd had her permission. Rosalie and Emmett were both dying. He offered them a second chance. But the way he sees it, Esme's living her second chance right now. She's free of that monster. She's teaching. She surrounded by children like she's always wanted to be. She's happy. He won't even consider asking her to contemplate this life. He won't take her humanity from her."

"But she'll die." Alice flashed up the foggy future again, frowning at the grey tombstone. "How could he love her so much and just let her go?"

"It's hard to explain," Edward said, "though the same feelings arose when I met Bella. When I considered how much life she'd have to throw away. How young she was. How much happier some human man could make her—children, a family, her friends . . . her parents. I felt wretched even wishing that one day she'd be like us."

Alice gave him a wry smile. "And yet Bella was the exception, wasn't she? She couldn't wait to leave humanity behind."

"Esme wants it, too. I think."

Alice gasped. "You never said anything!"

"Because she's very uncertain. It's like an unconscious flicker in the back of her mind. The concept is getting sharper every day, but she's already requested my discretion. And that we say nothing to Carlisle."

Alice leaned her head against his shoulder. "Sometimes I wonder what would have happened if Jasper or I were still human when we met."

Edward laughed. "Well, Jasper's diet might have proved to be a problem for a human you."

She chuckled. "Maybe. You now, I don't envy you or Carlisle one bit. Love is hard enough without the person you love being so very breakable."

"Yes it is," Edward agreed. He smirked at the thought in Alice's head. "Oh, Esme won't like that very much at all."

"What? It gave you piece of mind with Bella."

"She doesn't even like cars."

"She doesn't have to like it to drive it," Alice argued.

"Why don't we see how this week goes, hmm? And why don't we let Carlisle decide on the bulletproof vehicles."

"I'm just saying, maybe it'll bring him some piece of mind." Alice sighed as Carlisle started pacing again.

Edward glanced to the ceiling once more. "He's getting ready to go see her."

"Good. He frets less when he's with her." She gave Edward a wicked grin suddenly and he dropped his head into his hands.

"Do not meddle, Alice. For the love of—"

"It's only a closet," she argued. "One little renovation. Honestly . . . it's not as if I'm going to ask her to move in or anything." Her eyes twinkled. "I'm just going to give Carlisle the option."

With that, Alice flitted away, and Edward prayed that Carlisle left before Alice decided to start dismantling support walls.


	21. Chapter 21

The Friday of the gala arrived and Esme found herself looking forward to the evening much more than she'd anticipated.

Apparently this really was Forks' most interesting night and there was a buzz about it all over school. Some of the students had parents working at the hospital and had secured tickets. Others had been invited by friends or family members. And still others listened to descriptions of dresses and shoes and tuxes with rapt attention. Esme regarded her students with a kind of distant fascination, deciding that Alice was probably glowing with happiness right now.

That thought made her grin all the way to the staff room at lunch.

Tammi waved her over to the far side of the table as soon as she entered, making room by shoving the contents of her lunch bag to one side with a quick swipe of her hand.

"If it wasn't already Friday, I'd call in sick tomorrow."

"Bad day?" Esme wondered as she sat down, pulling out leftovers that Bella had sent home with her the other night. She opened the lid and waited for the the microwave to be free.

Tammi chewed on a granola bar, shaking her head and rolling her eyes towards the ceiling. "If I have to listen to one more adolescent girl talk about lipstick or heels, I'm going to lose my mind. Most of these kids aren't even going to the gala. And you know what happens during senior volleyball when no one pays attention? They get hit in the face. You know how many incident reports I've already filled out today? The school nurse is going to start hunting for me soon."

Tammi gave a frustrated groan as she prepped her salad with tomatoes and dressing. She shook it around the container with more vigour than necessary, causing Esme to chuckle. "You going to the gala tonight?"

"If I say yes, is it going to upset you?" Esme teased.

"As long as you don't tell me what shade of lipstick you're wearing, it's fine." Tammi took a swig from her water bottle. "So that was a yes, then?"

Esme nodded.

"And with whom may I ask? Or is this one of those go solo projects? You know, meet the three people in Forks you haven't already been introduced to."

Esme grinned as she stood up to use the microwave, placing her container inside and hitting an assortment of buttons. "I'm going with Carlisle Cullen, actually."

"Cullen?" Tammy almost spit her water across the table. "The hot, blond doctor god that everyone is always talking about?"

She gaped and Esme turned away to pull her container out of the microwave.

"Geezus, woman, how and when did this happen?"

Esme stirred her noodles, watching the steam disappear. She glanced at Tammi, shrugging. "It just sort of . . . did. I don't know."

Tammy pointed her fork at her. "We need to catch up. Somewhere there isn't hundreds of underage ears."

Esme nodded with a shy smile, sitting back down with her lunch.

At that moment, Esme looked up to see Jeremy enter the staff room. He walked towards them and sat down with a tentative grin in her direction. Determined not to make their relationship awkward, Esme returned it without hesitation. "So ladies, what are we discussing?"

Tammy muched on a sprout that jutted off the end of her fork. "Nothing your virgin ears can hear."

"Now that sounds promising."

"Keep wishing, pal."

Tammy gave Esme an exaggerated wink. Sometimes she reminded her of Sarah. They had that same sense of humour. That same quirky way of seeing the world.

"You have tickets to the gala?" Tammi asked Jeremy.

"Yes."

"Hot date going with you?"

Jeremy smirked, but busied himself with his sandwich and Esme made a point of being very interested in what remained of the noodle casserole in her dish.

"Uh huh," Tammi said quietly, looking between them. If she suspected anything, she didn't prod further and she made a point of changing the subject quickly. Apparently Jeremy had plans to go skiing over winter break with his siblings and though Esme hadn't really thought about what she would do, she was just as excited about the prospect of the holidays. It meant no marking (for the most part) and an extended amount of time spent with Carlisle and his family.

"What about you, Esme?"

"What?" she said, being startled out of her thoughts.

"Winter break?" Tammi prompted. "Any plans?"

"Not really," she said. "Just going to enjoy not having to plan lessons for a few weeks."

"Amen," Jeremy said. "I'm not going to look at a lesson plan or a test paper for at least ten days."

They shared a smile, this one less awkward than their previous one, and the three of them fell into an easy rhythm of lunch-time banter.

As the period drew to a close, Esme gathered her things, waved goodbye to Tammi, and followed Jeremy up to the second floor. He slowed to match her pace, silent, with his hands in his pockets. As they rounded the hallway he pulled up short by her door.

"We're okay, right?"

"Of course," Esme said immediately, desperate to push whatever awkward romantic feelings he harboured for her into the past.

"Right. Great." He nodded, staring at his feet. "So, you excited about tonight?"

Esme hugged her elbows. "Yes. More than I thought I would be."

Students started to shuffle in between them as they spoke, filtering into the classroom.

"It's a pretty good time, as far as Forks goes."

Edward and Bella slipped by them. Edward worked hard to hide his smirk and Esme, more familiar with the subtle changes in his expression now, deliberately looked away from him. Alice was harder to ignore as she stared at Mr. Daniels, her brow quirked in an expression that made her look decidedly unimpressed. She lingered for just a moment too long, unnerving Jeremy.

He mumbled a hasty goodbye, becoming engrossed with the students amassing outside his locked door. "Well, maybe I'll see you there tonight?"

"Sure," Esme said, waving before turning to enter the classroom. Alice was waiting for her just inside the door.

"He doesn't exactly know how to take a hint," she murmured.

"Alice, please," Esme whispered, glancing around the classroom. The students were still rowdy from lunch and no one, besides the Cullen's, had paid the exchange between her and Mr. Daniels any mind. Even now, the students were more than happy to carry on their conversations so long as it meant they didn't actually have to do any work.

Alice hummed thoughtfully. "You might have to be more direct in your approach."

"I think Carlisle in the parking lot was direct enough. Jeremy understands. We're okay now."

"I'll think of something," Alice said, shaking her head.

"How about you take your seat and not worry about Mr. Daniels right now?"

Alice sighed. "Yes, Ms. Platt." She dropped her voice to a whisper. "But just so you know, he's going to have a few drinks and try to kiss you tonight. So I don't think he really got the message after all."

Esme stared at Alice as she danced away, mouth open.

Edward looked at Alice sternly, whispering too quickly for Esme to make out what was going on, although she could tell that the exchange was heated. Bella smiled encouragingly at her and lifted her copy of Macbeth, startling Esme back to the present.

She was so out of sorts after Alice's confession that she struggled to pull her thoughts together for several minutes and opted to just start the movie she'd been saving for Monday.

In the darkness, the class murmured quietly while the movie flickered; most of them weren't paying attention or filling out the worksheet that she'd handed out, but Esme couldn't really blame them. She stared at the same test paper written by her senior class for fifteen minutes before realizing that she'd already finished marking it. Flipping it over, she wondered if she should have been firmer with Jeremy. She remembered the strange look he'd given Carlisle from across the parking lot that day he'd asked her to go to the gala.

Maybe she should have made more of an effort to talk about Carlisle. To emphasize their relationship. She'd been deliberately vague about it, in an effort not to draw attention. But maybe Jeremy had mistaken that for indifference on her part. Which was utterly ridiculous.

No . . . this was on him. She'd already told him no. She shouldn't have to do it again.

But at least now that she knew it might happen, she could avoid it.

She could stop it before Alice's vision came true. Isn't that what Alice's visions were all about anyway? Choices. Decisions. At some point tonight, Jeremy would make up his mind to do something that they would both regret, but she had a choice to make, too. And that was already made.

Esme rolled her red pen between her fingers. Then what exactly was bothering her so much about this? She couldn't control what other people did and if Jeremy chose to try and kiss her, then it would be a mistake on his part. Certainly their relationship would suffer after it. It was one thing to turn down an invitation out, but it was another thing to get over a stolen kiss. She'd be sad to lose the friendship that was developing there, but that wasn't really what made her anxious.

She was afraid of what Carlisle would think—of her. Of Jeremy.

His jealousy hadn't bothered her at the time, but now something about it struck her. Charles had been like that. Not jealous, per say, but possessive. Controlling. He'd always curtailed the people she was with; the friends she had. After all the years, Sarah was one of the only people who refused to be pushed away by Charles' bullying.

So, maybe that was it. Some repressed part of her was afraid of how Carlisle would react, because in another lifetime, she'd be in trouble for this. In another lifetime, she'd never let a friendship with another man develop to the point of feelings. She'd been so much more guarded in her personal life when she was with Charles. Here, in Forks, she'd been free to engage with whomever she wanted, and Carlisle had never once put restrictions on that.

Even when he'd heard Jeremy ask her to the gala, he hadn't reacted the way Charles ever had. And they'd talked about it after.

So that's how she would deal with this. She would talk to him . . . right now. Yes. Esme straightened up in her seat, already feeling better about her decision. It was the only way she'd be able to settle her mind. If not she'd be anxious about it until tonight and their evening would be ruined.

Esme dug through her bag for her phone and tucked it into her pocket.

She made her way to the door, slipping out of the classroom and into the hall. She tucked herself into a vacant alcove, close enough to hear if her class became too rowdy in her absence.

Once the hallway was clear, she hit Carlisle's number.

He answered on the first ring.

"Esme? Is everything alright?"

She frowned at his concern. "Yes."

He paused, waiting, then: "You're calling me in the middle of your class. Not that I do not appreciate hearing the sound of your voice, it's just unusual."

She shook her head. Of course this was weird for her. "I know. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to bother you at work."

"Esme, you're never a bother," he promised. "Ever."

She smiled for a moment, listening to him breathe on the other end of the phone.

"Love, is something wrong?"

She sighed. "Alice told me something. And it's . . . it's been bothering me."

"It must have been, if it made you call me in the middle of the day."

"It's about tonight. She said something might happen . . . something that I don't want to happen and I'll try very hard to avoid, only—"

"Does this have anything to do with the infatuated Mr. Daniels and a kiss?"

Esme paused. "You knew?"

"There is very little Alice does not tell me when it comes to you, Esme."

She stayed silent.

"Have I upset you?"

"No . . ." she answered. "No."

"You sound off, sweetheart."

"It's just . . ." she frowned into the phone, "it didn't bother you?"

Carlisle chuckled. "I wasn't exactly thrilled," he said. Then more seriously, "Though his advances at that point would be less than gentlemanly, I would never hold it against you."

"Oh . . . okay." Relief bubbled up inside her.

"Is that what worried you?" he asked. "That I would be angry?"

"I'm sorry, it was ridiculous. I know."

"It's not ridiculous, Esme. And I'm glad you called. That you talked to me about it."

To be honest, so was she. This had always been something that was missing from her relationship with Charles—that ability to talk, to communicate. So much of their interaction was filtered and practiced. She knew exactly what would set him off and went out of her way to avoid it. As unhealthy as that was, it had been how she coped. Now she was relearning how to interact in a relationship without those same safety nets.

Somewhere in the distance, Esme could hear Carlisle being paged on the overhead system.

"I love you very much," he murmured into the phone.

"I love you, too. Now get back to work, Dr. Cullen."

His laugh was clear and tenor. "I'll see you later."

When she hung up the phone, she was far less anxious and returned to class just in time to stop the movie and flick on the lights. A few of the students sat up, blinking wearily as they squinted against the light. Others started packing their bags, racing the clock to beat the bell. When it rang moments later, Esme wished everyone a good weekend and watched them hurry out the door.

After most of the students had left, Alice skipped towards her desk. "I didn't mean to upset you, Esme."

"I know, dear. It wasn't you," she promised.

"Well, either way. Everything is going to be exactly perfect tonight, so don't you worry."

"Edward has told me to never bet against you, so I'll take your word for it." They shared a warm smile as Edward and Bella lingered by their desks.

Esme began packing up and after several minutes of tidying her things, Alice tapped her heel impatiently and Edward turned his head away from the sight to grin.

"Esme, would you like some help?" Alice wondered, eyeing all the files that she still had to pack away.

Esme could tell she was itching to get home and the decidedly human pace was working to frustrate her. "You know, Alice, I can meet you at the house. I needed to stop by my place for a few things anyway."

"No need," she tapped her forehead. "I've got it all."

Esme shook her head, zipping up her bag. After another moment of stacking files, Esme felt the faint brush of wind against her arm and in the next moment all her things were neatly assorted on her desk, packed exactly where she would have packed them, and Alice looked at her with a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, but there's just so much to do before tonight. Hair. Makeup. Your nails . . . if I had known the state of them I would have made you an appointment. But too late now. A coat or two of polish will have to do."

Alice promptly marched her from the room then, leading them all towards the now empty parking lot.

"Don't worry," Bella whispered. "This Alice is relatively tame. You should have seen her trying to plan mine and Edward's wedding. I thought about eloping."

Alice sent Bella a heated glare that made Edward snicker.

"It was lovely, though," Bella admitted. "You'll have a wonderful time tonight. Just don't fight it."

"Oh honestly, Bella, you'll give her nightmares." Alice steered Esme towards her car. After letting her load her bags into the trunk, Alice held out her hand with a look of determination. "I am not patient enough to let you drive. So please don't make me wrestle the keys from you."

Esme handed over her keys. "You could just drive with, Edward. I'm more than capable of getting to your place in one piece."

Alice laughed, a sound that sent a tinkling soprano around the car as Esme got into the passenger seat. "Edward still drives slow," Alice said. "I think it's leftover from Bella's human days."

Alice turned the ignition and stepped on the gas, beating Edward to the exit.

"You know my car is like a senior citizen." Esme clutched the door handle as they cruised around a turn far too quickly. "It can't handle your insane driving."

"It's fine." Esme gave her a look and Alice shrugged. "Rose has been tinkering while you've been over. She may not be anything to look at on the outside, but inside she purrs. Rose's words, not mine."

"I don't want to drive a sports car, Alice."

"It's not because of that. Carlisle asked her to have a look, just to make sure everything looked safe. But Rose can't always help herself. She likes a project."

Esme blushed at his concern.

"You know Edward bought Bella a bulletproof car before they got married."

"That seems excessive."

"Exactly. As sweet as it was, we all thought he was crazy. Did Bella have clumsy tendencies? Yes. Should he have wrapped her in bubble wrap? Perhaps. But bulletproof glass? That was a bit much. So when you consider the little things Carlisle does to keep you safe, just remember, Edward once paid me off with a yellow Porsche for babysitting Bella while he went hunting."

"That's a car right?"

"Oh my—" Alice glanced at her, shaking her head. "Very funny."

Esme grinned with all her teeth. "So that's the god awful yellow thing in the garage?"

"You won't be saying that after I take you for a ride. It's so fast and smooth, it's like you're flying." Alice sighed dreamily.

"No thank you. Not while I'm human." Esme blinked, looking at Alice quickly, then away again. She hadn't meant it like that. She didn't even really know how she had meant it. The part about being human had just slipped out.

Alice offered her a sympathetic look. "You know, it would be strange if you didn't think about it sometimes. I mean, who wouldn't?"

"I just . . . I'm not sure."

"What's stopping you?"

"I don't quite know. Nothing, I suppose. It just feels like a big step. Very permanent. And that seems daunting in a way."

Alice pulled down the long winding driveway to the house. "I suppose it is, when the choice is there. That wasn't an option for most of us, knowing exactly what you were walking into beforehand. I guess having that knowledge could make the choice overwhelming."

"Yes."

"Do you love him?"

Esme's brow furrowed. "Of course I do. More than anything."

"He loves you, too, in a way that defies everything there is to earn in a human love. Immortal love is hard to understand from the outside. It takes a great deal to change an immortal. To shift their spirit. You've changed Carlisle and I know he sees a future with you, in whatever capacity you choose."

"I want a future with him, too."

Alice thumbed the steering wheel gently as she parked the car outside he garage. "I know. I guess now you just have to decide if that future is forever, or one to last a human lifetime." She sighed dramatically, and in an instant the tension in the car melted away. "But those are decisions that you have time to make. Your hair and makeup on the other hand needs to be started right now. Under no circumstances are you to leave this house tonight looking anything less than divine. Now come, Rose should have everything set up by now."


	22. Chapter 22

Everything, according to Alice, consisted of a mini salon in Alice's bathroom. An array of beauty products were set up along the white marble counter that spanned the length of the wall. The only thing that was more impressive than the counter was the mirror. Esme blinked under the bright lights, wondering if all this was really necessary.

"Straight?" Alice muttered to Rosalie, plucking at a strand of Esme's hair.

"Keep the curls. Carlisle likes them. But let's do more of a loose wave. I think that would suit the dress."

Esme sat in a chair and watched in the mirror as Rosalie took a series of different sized curling irons to her hair. She worked quickly, styling with an ease that spoke of years of practice.

Rosalie caught her staring and twisted her lips in the mirror. "Alice's hair is too short to play with, and Bella can't be bothered, so you'll have to indulge me."

"You're quite good at that."

"As a very young girl we had a lady's maid who would do my hair. I always wore it long and she utterly adored me. And then when the twenties happened and everyone was chopping off their hair, I just couldn't part with mine and became very adept at styling it."

Alice listened to the story, one she must have heard plenty of times, with a kind of wistfulness. Carlisle had told her that Alice remembered nothing of her time as a human, which must have made her transformation both better and worse. Better because she had no past to miss, but worse because, until finding Jasper, she had been utterly alone, without even her memories to keep her company. Despite her stature, there was a strength to Alice that intrigued Esme and she felt a sort of pride for the wonderful person she was despite all she had faced.

Esme looked at the other girl in the mirror, imagining her growing up during the roaring twenties. Even then Rosalie must have stood out for her graceful beauty.

Rosalie tilted her head, perhaps thinking the same sort of thing. "Do you think in another lifetime I could have been a model?"

"Most definitely not," Esme said. "People choose models to show off clothes. Those girls are supposed to blend. You're far too pretty to ever just blend in."

Rosalie smiled.

"Besides, I've heard very good things from the shop teacher as of late and I think your talent lies in more than just hair styling."

Now Rosalie grinned, full and toothy. "I took a couple of engines apart last week during class, just to show off, though don't tell Carlisle. He wouldn't approve."

Esme chuckled as Alice started on her nails. "We'll keep it between us then."

As the girl's began to chatter, Esme's phone rang upon the counter top. Sarah's face lit up the screen. It had been a few days since they had last spoken and even then it had been a very quick call to check in. They'd barely said hello and goodbye to each other.

"Go on," Alice said, nodding to the counter as she filed Esme's nails. "You might as well answer it. I don't plan to let you go anytime soon."

Esme sighed in good humour, reaching for the phone and answering the call. "Hello?"

"Hi. It's me. So I decided to paint my bathroom."

Esme smirked at Sarah's tone. "That's good, I guess."

"Maybe. I don't know if I'll like the colour tomorrow. As per usual, the kids were screaming in the cart so I just grabbed a random can of paint and left. I think it's sort of bluish. Maybe grey, but still kind of blue. Like the sky when it rains. Is that a bathroom colour? I guess it could be relaxing."

"Why tomorrow?" Esme asked. "Why not now?"

"I decided to have a glass of wine and lock the bathroom door while I paint, so right now everything is looking wonderful."

Esme laughed.

"Oh, how is Doctor Hotpants by the way?"

Esme watched Alice and Rosalie exchange a grin in the mirror. "He's . . . he's good. Great, actually. We're going to a gala tonight at the hospital."

"That sounds fun!"

"Well, I'm excited, so we'll see."

"Does he know you can't dance?"

Rosalie and Alice shared another glance and that was exactly why Esme had kept her lack of rhythm a secret. Knowing them, she would have been signed up for dance lessons.

"Hmm . . . I thought I'd leave that part out for now."

Sarah laughed. "You're going to hide by the bar, aren't you?"

"It's worked for me before."

"I'm super jealous. The closest I've got to a date in the last month was that time we got stuck in the McDonald's drive-thru for thirty minutes while the deep fryer malfunctioned and both kids fell asleep."

"Why didn't you just take the kids home?"

"Do you know what demons would have spawned if they woke up to no Happy Meal toys? I specifically have to check the boxes before we leave the parking lot. It is not an option if I want to keep what little remains of my sanity."

"What am I going to do with them. You're letting them run wild."

"I know. I need you to come set me straight. And them. I think they're currently trying to throttle each other in the hall, but in that loving, sibling way."

Esme could hear Connor shrieking in the background. Rosalie tilted her head at the sound, intrigued. "Well, as long as it's with love."

"See, that's exactly what I thought," Sarah sighed. "I must be doing something right."

"You're drunk. And probably getting high off paint fumes. You should open a window."

"Ha! I wish. I'm going to go cook chicken fingers now."

"For the kids?"

"No, for me. I'm hungry."

Esme shook her head. "Well, that definitely pairs well with the wine."

"It's from a box, so I'm not holding it to any great standard."

Esme bit the inside of her cheek. "Save me some and one day I'll come tell you how ugly the bathroom looks."

"I knew I could count on you, Es. Say hi to Doctor Hotpants for me. Have fun tonight. Don't do anything I wouldn't do." She giggled. "Call me if you need a ride home."

Esme laughed. "I will. Drink some water."

"Party-pooper. Love you. Bye."

Sarah hung up and Esme stared at her phone.

"She sounds like lots of fun, let's invite her here," Alice said.

"Sarah is a hoot, especially when she's drunk. And she is definitely not coming here because she's far too nosy for her own good. She'd unravel this whole vampire thing in about five minutes."

"Is that how Doctor Hotpants happened?" Rosalie asked with a poorly concealed grin.

"Yes, and that was her sober. So . . ."

"Do you have pictures?" Rosalie asked.

Esme handed off her phone as Alice did her makeup, letting Rosalie scroll through the saved folders of Conner and Kayla.

"They're adorable," Rosalie gushed. A sad flicker crossed her face and Esme understood it immediately. There were just some things in this life that she wasn't meant to have and kids were one of them. At least, in the traditional way. And though she'd come to terms with it, it didn't make the longing any easier. But it would be hard for Rosalie to come to terms with losing something she'd never even had the opportunity to have.

As amazing as immortality was, there were parts of it that weighed heavily on all of them and Esme could see that.

Rosalie handed her phone back. "They're very cute."

"And a crazy handful. We thought Kayla might be more mellow, you know, to balance out Connor."

Rosalie grinned. "Nope?"

"Oh, much worse."

Alice dusted some blush over both her cheeks as Esme smiled at Rosalie before declaring her perfect. But before Esme could turn to the mirror, Alice had ushered her out of the bathroom and into the walk-in closet.

Her dress hung on a hangar over the back of the door. The deep green stood out against the pearly white paint, but it was the shoes at the bottom of the ensemble that made Esme pause. "Absolutely not."

"They're not that bad, trust me."

"I'll break my leg."

Rosalie snorted. "If you give up now, the rest of this will go much smoother."

Esme looked between them with thinly veiled panic. She considered the nice, dependable pumps that she often wore to school. This strappy monstrosity sitting on the floor would most likely lead to an early death. Maybe she could just pretend. Maybe she'd take her shoes and switch them out when they got in the car. Carlisle wouldn't care what she had on her feet.

"Don't you dare," Alice warned. "One Bella per family is enough to deal with. Just trust me."

Exactly six minutes later, Esme was dressed. She stood in front of the floor length mirror, frozen—partly from shock and partly because she feared toppling over if she moved too much. She had always wondered what standing alongside Carlisle as a human must look like to other people. And when he'd asked her to the gala, where they would be put on display for all of Forks, she wondered if people would think she was deserving of him. It was a fear that plagued her sometimes. But standing here now, looking at all the work Alice and Rosalie had accomplished, she felt like she could stand by his side, and hold her head up high. She felt beautiful and strong. Like the pre-Charles Esme, who was fun and adventurous and eager for all the things life had to offer. She still wasn't sold on the shoes however—

"I mean, I think we could still go for a higher heel, but I'm happy with the result."

"Alice, I like both my ankles the way they are."

"Oh, Carlisle won't let you hurt yourself. Don't be ridiculous."

"I'd still like to be able to walk."

Bella stood in the doorway, nodding in agreement. "I think you look great, Esme."

Alice rolled her eyes. "Oh, Bella. So much to learn."

Rosalie burst into a fit of laughter as she looked between them.

Esme wondered if this was what it must be like to have daughters. She supposed so. There would be the typically fussy one and the one that couldn't be bothered at all. They would laugh and joke and steal each others clothes.

"Well," Alice said. "Do a spin."

Esme made a sweeping turn, testing out the heels, which weren't too bad to move in after all. The dress fell in silky waves, stopping just shy of the floor. The green was the shade of the forest under the setting sun and Esme was in love with it. It rose up in a sleeveless halter around her neck, dipping low in the back. Though still curly, her hair fell in loose waves and her makeup was done to match the dress, her eyes highlighted in darker tones.

Alice made a wide circle around her, one inspecting finger held to her chin. She tapped it thoughtfully. Finally she stopped and clapped her hands together. "You look absolutely perfect."

"Good," Rosalie said. "Are we done here? They should have left a half hour ago."

Alice waved away her concern. "It's fine. No one turns up on time to these things."

"I thought we were trying not to draw attention to them. Turning up fashionably late will do just that."

"It was going to happen one way or another," Alice sighed. "No one dressed by me can ever be anything but the center of attention."

Esme swallowed, adjusting her dress. Attention was the last thing she wanted from half the town tonight, though she supposed with Carlisle on her arm that was inevitable. He certainly attracted enough attention on a normal day, never mind in a tux.

"Don't worry," Rosalie smiled as she helped Esme straighten the dress. "I might go out of my way to attract attention when I know I shouldn't, but Carlisle knows better. He'll take you in the back way. And by the time people realize you're there, they'll be a few drinks in and the stares won't last long. Besides, you'll be so busy looking at Carlisle you won't have time to notice anyone else."

"Thanks, Rosalie," Esme whispered, giving the girl a warm smile in the mirror.

"Hey, babe?" Emmett appeared in the doorway suddenly. He gave Esme an up and down and whistled. "Looking good there, Esme."

"Thank you, Emmett."

"So, is Carlisle's tie supposed to match . . . or . . ."

Alice sighed. "You had one job, Emmett. I even told you what store to go to."

"I know, but then the sporting goods store had a sale and you should see all the bats I now have in my trunk. The good kind, too." He made a swinging motion, popping his lips as he pretended to watch a ball soar away. He shrugged, looking apologetic. "Sorry."

Rosalie pushed him from the room, "I'll take care of it," she said.

Emmett turned as Rosalie forced him away, calling over his shoulder: "Seriously, Esme. Grand slam. Carlisle is going to—"

The rest of his sentence was lost and Esme suspected it had something to do with Rosalie.

Alice smirked.

"What's so funny," Esme wondered.

"I knew he'd get sidetracked. I decided I didn't want you two to match anyway. Traditional black will look so much better."

"Oh, Alice, you should tell him. He probably feels terrible."

"I will." She grinned. "I just want him to suffer a bit first."

"That's sort of cruel."

"When you've known Emmett longer, you won't feel that way."

She popped up suddenly, jumping on her tip-toes. "It's time. He's ready. You're both ready. Let's go."

Esme followed Alice from the room, though upon reaching the stairs she was less certain about her ability to manoeuvre in the shoes.

Luckily she didn't have to because Carlisle cleared his throat from behind her. She turned to find him leaning casually against the wall. He wore a tailored black tux that fit him in a way that made Esme feel like she'd just stepped onto the set of a classic Hollywood film. He was dashing and handsome as she took him in, drinking in the sight and trying to burn the image into her brain.

In a similar way, he looked at her without blinking. He'd gone very still and very silent since clearing his throat.

Although her dress was classy enough for the gala, there was still quite a bit of skin showing. Certainly more than Carlisle had ever seen of her and for a moment Esme felt self-conscious.

"Well," Alice sang. "How does she look?"

"Dazzling," he said, looking up as if he'd forgotten Alice was there. He gave Esme a gentle smile as he reached for her hand and drew her to him.

He kissed her forehead gently, tilting his head to regard her curiously. "You're taller."

"It's the shoes." She tugged on her dress to reveal the heels.

"Ah, I see." Carlisle swallowed and she watched the bob of his throat, somewhat mesmerized. "Those are . . ."

"Dangerous?" Esme offered.

"Quite lovely as well," he whispered, taking her hand and drawing her even closer, almost as if they were dancing. "But if you're concerned, Ms. Platt, you'll have to stay close, that way I can assure you won't fall. Though, I confess, the chance of me letting you go at all tonight is very slim."

He breathed against her ear and Esme felt positively dizzy. "Well," she swallowed. "If we plan to make it to the gala, the first order of business will be helping me down these stairs."

Carlisle chuckled, letting his hand drift to her hip in a motion that sent shivers down her spine. He swept her up then—literally off her feet—as she shrieked, clinging to his neck.

"As you wish."

"No fair!" Emmett crowed from the living room, watching them descend the stairs. "Jasper and I had a bet."

"You bet on whether or not I'd fall down the stairs?"Esme said as soon as Carlisle had put her on her feet again.

"Hey, women's shoes are no joke. Did you see that video of the model on the runway that looked like she had rubber legs? I swear they were gonna snap off. Also, it's not like you would have actually fallen. There's like seven of us here with perfect reflexes. One of us would have caught you." He flexed, just for show. "But anyway, there's always later. Jasper! Bet's still on. Double or nothing." Emmett smirked and winked at them. "You two kids have fun now, you hear!"

"Goodbye, Emmett," Carlisle said, helping Esme into her coat and leading her to the garage. "Now that Bella's human life is over, his life has been rather dull," he teased, pressing a kiss to her temple as he helped her into his car.

He was inside and fiddling with the heater before she even had a chance to get cold.

"Do you have the tickets?" she wondered. They pulled onto the main road on their way to the hospital.

He slipped his hand inside his jacket, pulling out the two slips of paper. He grinned at her eager look. "You really do look lovely in that colour," he remarked. "Alice was quite right."

She noted the sharp dip of his Adam's apple as he swallowed and she smirked as his tongue darted out to his lips. Apparently she was having the same effect on him as he was having on her.

"It reminds me of the forest, that evening we watched he sunset."

"It matches your eyes," Carlisle said. "Almost perfectly."

He reached over and tangled his fingers with hers. "Thank you for coming with me tonight," he said.

"Thank you for inviting me." She traced the spaces between his knuckles with the tips of her fingers.

"I've never had someone to go with before, and I admit, this evening is already far surpassing any other."

Her heart thudded at his words. She often lost sense of reality when he spoke to her like that. Like her very presence affected him so acutely.

They turned into the hospital and though there was a line of cars waiting for parking, Carlisle drove confidently towards the back of the lot. He raced by the front of the emergency department and off to a side lot with RESERVED signs posted into the ground.

"Perks of the job," he teased as he pulled into a spot and cut the ignition.

"I guess it's who you know," Esme said, playing along. "It's almost like you're a doctor or something."

"Doctor Hotpants at your service."

Esme broke into peels of laughter. "You were listening?"

"Just to the part about Sarah being drunk and painting her bathroom."

"Do you approve?"

"What other combination is there?" He nuzzled his face against her, pressing a flurry of kisses into her neck.

Esme giggled as his tongue tickled her skin, pulling away to catch her breath. "What do you know about being drunk?"

"Truthfully, nothing, aside from the physiological outcomes. Though I've heard it romanticized throughout time and never had I anything to compare it to, until I met you. The dizzying race of emotion. The giddy feeling of floating. The euphoric, head spinning rush. You make me feel that way, Esme." He leaned close, his lips brushing over hers with a barely there pressure. "Did I get it right?"

"I'd say so," Esme breathed. Her eyelids fluttered closed as Carlisle pressed more eagerly against her, his lips parting hers gently as his tongue explored her mouth with a slow kind of grace that made her shiver. "Though you forgot the nausea and pounding headache."

"Ah, of course, I was trying to spare you the gory details." He grinned against her skin, pecking her once more before pulling away. "Shall we?"

She leaned back against the seat, flushed and breathing hard, which was completely unfair, considering he didn't even have to breathe if he chose not to. She nodded once and he appeared by her door, reaching out to help her out of the Mercedes.

He guided her up a set of steps and into a seemingly abandoned part of the hospital. It was a hallway of locked offices—everyone having retired for the weekend. The hallway opened to a series of glass windows that overlooked Forks. The sun had almost set, the last hints of daylight turning the sky a muted orange under the grey.

Carlisle stopped at his office, one of the abandoned doors in the hall, and left their coats inside.

Esme glanced around, finding the room sparse and filled with the expected patient files. There were no photos on his desk, nothing that called out to who he was. Though it made her sad, she also understood why. Carlisle kept his secret so closely guarded; he couldn't afford to let any unnecessary bits of himself be discovered.

When he smiled at her though, she forgot about all that and let him lead her to the room the gala was being held in.

He let his hands roam the dip of her back as they walked, between where the fabric of her dress parted.

She could feel his fingers dance along her spine as he guided her across the foyer of the hospital and towards the room that had been decorated for tonight. Though Forks was small, they had obviously put a lot of work into the event.

"Doctor Cullen," someone greeted. "It's good to see you."

"You too, Jim," Carlisle replied kindly. "Just stepped out for some air."

"I hear you. I think it's one of our best turn outs yet." The man nodded to them both, stepping aside to let them into the room. They had obviously entered through some sort of back door as there was a large group of people converged at the coat check near the front of the room.

Esme was impressed with how smoothly Carlisle had spoken to the man. It was clear that he was well liked among the staff.

People in the crowd addressed him by name and though he stopped and shook hands, Esme lost track of how many people he had introduced her to. He would whisper their names in her ear as they approached and they would regard her with the same kind of quiet awe as they did with Carlisle. Many of them were from Seattle—hospital board members and presidents of various organizations. Others were his coworkers, who seemed more than eager to find out about the woman he had on his arm tonight.

Carlisle held her close, eventually working his way towards the bar. He bought them both a drink—for her, the white wine she'd asked for. And for him, something stronger. Whiskey by the smell of it. He nursed the same drink for a good portion of the night, raising his glass, though the drink was never empty.

He was quite accomplished at the ruse and his coworkers were none the wiser, charmed by his handsome face and alluring presence. After a while, and several drinks for his admirers, the flock of people around them thinned out and they were able to speak freely.

Esme had never seen this side of Carlisle before—the well-spoken, highly-regarded doctor . Although he worked hard to keep a low profile, he was also well liked among the small medical community of Forks and his superiors were eager to introduce him to the wealthy community partners and donors that contributed to the hospital budget platforms. A large part of the night was geared towards raising money for the hospital and Carlisle played his part well.

She could almost envision him, way back when, charming aristocrats and high society folks in ballrooms and parlours. He was the unassuming hero from every period novel she had ever read as a girl.

A waiter passed and Carlisle deposited their drinks upon his tray. His arm looped around her waist and he pressed his lips to her hair. "You're a very intriguing topic tonight, Ms. Platt. I daresay you'll be hot gossip in town now."

Esme glanced around. Men and women alike stole glances in their direction and she wondered if this was the moment Alice foresaw.

"Well, if you would try harder to blend in," she teased.

Carlisle smiled down at her. "It's not me they want to talk to."

"Only because they think I hold your attention."

"You do."

"And they want to know why."

"Shall we show them?"

Music stuck up again—the kind that flowed with dazzling stringed instruments and soft brass. People had been dancing on an off all night—slow twists and turns around the dance floor.

She spied Jeremy across the room. He stood with a small group of people, sipping casually at his drink. With Carlisle by her side, all fears of their earlier conversation had been erased. Jeremy kept his distance, and though she offered him a slight nod, there was a stiffness in his body language that probably had something to do with the cold stare Carlisle shot him across the room.

Esme took his hand, drawing them out of sight of Jeremy. "Any more and you'll freeze him on the spot."

"Just getting the point across."

"You've been plotting with Alice."

"She may have informed my actions, which I daresay are warranted. You look exceptionally beautiful tonight." He pulled her towards the dance floor.

She bit her lip, tugging back on his hand. "I don't dance," she said, gesturing to the crowd. "Not like that."

Carlisle held out his other hand for her and she resigned herself to the fact that she was indeed getting on this dance floor. "Well," he said, pulling her close and resting his hand on her hip while she brought her own hand to his shoulder. "It is a good thing I am well versed in the waltz."

He led them expertly into the crowd, his rhythm and grace easily making up for her lack thereof. "Do I even want to know what century you learned this in?"

"Dancing is not as foreign as you may think. It's only in the last few decades that the art form has died out. It used to be how people met and interacted. Granted, the dance changed over the years, but great love stories were still told across the dance floor."

"Now that sounds very romantic."

He leaned closer, until his lips brushed her ear. "That was my intention."

He twirled them then, and she giggled into his jacket, enjoying the lightness she felt. With the swell of the music and his gentle guidance, she was absolutely intoxicated by the dance with him. The murmur of the crowd died away as they glided around the dance floor during each new number and though she knew there would be whispers in town about their relationship on Monday, at this exact moment she couldn't care.

He held her close, never once letting her trip up, twirling them in circles like they had been dancing together all their lives.

"How do you feel about dancing now?" he asked as the final song closed to a boisterous round of applause. Carlisle clapped along with the crowd, though he never once took his eyes off her.

Esme just pulled him close and kissed him in all the confusion as the crowd swarmed to find their partners and make their way towards the exit.

He held her to him, his palms flat against her back. They swept across her skin, sending a warmth searing through her veins. "Shall we go?" he whispered, turning back towards the door they'd entered in. It was far less crowded and they left the room unimpeded as they strolled back through the halls hand in hand.

They paused outside the dimly lit corridor housing Carlisle's office but instead of unlocking his door, he pulled her to him once more.

"Tonight was lovely," she admitted freely, still giddy with the adrenaline that came from being spun around the dance floor, tucked into his embrace.

"I'm glad you enjoyed yourself. You deserve to have nights like this. As many as you'd like."

Somehow, she knew it was a promise.

The clock posted to the wall near the top of the ceiling approached midnight and Esme couldn't believe how fast the time had gone. Part of her felt like they had only just arrived. To think that it was already over made her long for just a few more minutes like this, utterly alone with him. "Does the ball end now?" she joked.

"Maybe for Cinderella," Carlisle whispered. "Time doesn't exactly pose the same limitations for us." He took her hands, spinning her gently in the middle of the hall, starting a slow waltz—this one much more intimate than what they'd shared before. It was a lazy back and forth, moving to a gentle rhythm that he hummed. Over his shoulder, she could see the stars in the dark blue sky through the the windows, highlighted by the glow of the moon.

In that moment, twirling soundlessly in his arms, she knew she wanted this forever. She wanted a million more midnights, knowing that the dance never had to end.

And she wanted it with him.


	23. Chapter 23

As November came to a close, Esme was surprised to find that she'd lost track of the days, somehow passing through the first two weeks of December in a blur of tests and papers and intrigued looks from her coworkers. December had brought with it a wicked chill that seemed to coat Forks in a fine layer of ice, and though it was desperately cold outside, the feeling inside Forks high school was as heated as ever. As the commotion surrounding the hospital gala died down inside the school, it was quickly replaced with giddy talk of the dawning winter break—all except for the rumour that Ms. Platt was dating the handsome and long-term bachelor, Doctor Cullen.

Esme hadn't really appreciated just how voracious this town would be for news of the two of them. Apparently her love life was quite the scandal in this increasingly small town. Tammi knew already, of course, and so did Jeremy, but she somehow managed to seem oblivious to the way the other teachers would suddenly hush when she entered the staff room or the fact that the female student population now whispered giddily behind their hands when she passed them in the hall; once she'd realized the impact of her being seen with Carlisle, she'd decided not to draw extra attention to him and his family by playing into the rumours.

If she kept pleasantly oblivious and the Cullen's remained their usual, unapproachable selves, the mystery of her relationship status with Carlisle was sure to remain just that—a mystery. She kept her classes busy preparing for winter break and she hoped that by the time they all returned in a few weeks, there would be new rumour fodder for the hallways.

Perhaps that was wishful thinking. She considered the Cullen's from her spot on their large sofa as they mulled around the living room. Alice was currently orchestrating the decorating of a fifteen-foot tree that had been procured earlier by Edward and Jasper. It fit nicely in the living room, reaching towards the vaulted ceiling in elegant boughs of silver and gold.

Bella snuck on the occasional blue, sapphire ornament, much to Alice's dismay. Apparently it didn't fit her vision.

Carlisle and the others had been having a wonderful day unearthing old Christmas keepsakes that had been packed away in storage. It was mostly for her benefit, but each new layer of bubble wrap held old stories and bits of history in the intricate baubles. It was becoming increasingly difficult to focus on her marking as she sat on the sofa beside Carlisle, who was beaming at her with the giddy fascination of a child being told they could open one gift on Christmas Eve.

Between that and the smell of warm gingerbread baking in the oven—thanks to Bella—Esme had all but abandoned hope of returning the last test her seniors had written before the break.

"So, Teach," Emmett said, plopping down on the sofa, sandwiching her between himself and Carlisle, "winter break is coming up. What kind of insane assignment are you going to drop on us?"

"Are you awaiting your fate?" Esme teased.

"I have come with a plea, on behalf of my fellow seniors."

Esme smirked. "That's very generous of you."

"Well, I don't know if you've heard, but _apparently_ I have an _in_ with the English teacher since she's _apparently_ dating my dad."

"And the use of air quotes around apparently?" Carlisle wondered, looking away from the box he was digging in to regard Emmett.

The boy grinned. "I don't know who in their right mind would date a doctor. They're stuffy and boring and work all the time."

"Is that so?" Carlisle said.

Emmett shrugged. "Just what I heard. I mean, I don't put a lot of stock in the rumour mill at Forks high, especially since Doctor Cullen was said to be waltzing—I repeat, waltzing at the gala."

Carlisle made a face. "Did we waltz?"

Esme shook her head. "Definitely not. Sounds like far too much fun."

"Ah, I thought so."

Alice and Rosalie grinned from their spots around the tree, stringing strands of silver beads over the branches.

"Anyway," Emmett continued. "I knew that couldn't possibly be true because I don't think I've seen Carlisle waltz since 1953 and was altogether sure he'd forgotten how."

Esme bit the tip of her red pen. The dancing had been a particular highlight of the entire night.

"Just because you can't waltz to save your life, doesn't mean the rest of us can't," Edward said, taking Bella by the arms and spinning her around the living room in between strands of garland and boxes of glass ornaments. They moved so expertly, it was like watching the spin of a music box that twisted without pause or falter.

"Mmm hmm," Emmett said, eyeing Carlisle. "Mr. Low-key, whatever you did that night has been all over school for days."

"I have no idea what you're referring to," Carlisle said, handing Alice a row of intricately carved glass icicles. "Esme and I were engaged in some rather lively conversations about hospital politics, though. Apparently Dr. Snow is up for promotion."

"Oh, how did that work out?" Esme wondered.

"Quite well as far as I know; he's the most qualified for the position—"

"Don't change the subject, old man." Emmett leaned against the arm of the sofa and grinned. "You forgot yourself in the middle of a crowded room."

Carlisle paused, considering the box of ornaments in his hands. "I might have," he admitted with a lingering smile. "For a few minutes at least. Though I had a very compelling reason."

Esme blushed furiously and contemplated pulling her papers to her nose. Carlisle caught her hand instead, interrupting her train of thought as he pulled her fingers to his lips.

"Alright, alright," Emmett crowed, "no one wants to see that. Family time is rated G. But I'm happy you guys had a good time. It makes all the extra glaring I'm doing this week totally worth it."

"Please don't scare the kids, Emmett." Esme looked at him, her hand still trapped in Carlisle's. "They won't come back if you do. And I like teaching them."

"I'll reserve it for Mr. Daniel's then."

Carlisle stiffened slightly and Esme drew her hand away from his to run it down his spine. His form seemed to break then, becoming more relaxed. "Jeremy and I are fine," Esme insisted.

Emmett shot Edward a look and something strange passed between them, which Esme didn't miss. She sat up straighter. "What is it?"

"Nothing," Emmett said.

"Babe, you suck at secrets," Rosalie sighed as she tossed a strand of silver beads over a large bough. She dropped her hands to her hips. "Mr. Daniels is still pining and since Edward can read his thoughts we've been busy running interference."

Jasper rolled his eyes. "That man really needs to get his civil war facts straight. I can't believe someone actually let him teach history."

Alice skipped to his side. "I told you to ask him something simple, Jazz."

"It _was_ simple."

"I meant the you-can-read-about-it-in-books simple. Not the you-had-to-be-there simple."

Jasper smirked at her, pecking her gently on the nose. "The man's an idiot."

"A determined idiot," Alice agreed.

"I always thought he might have been gay," Bella said thoughtfully. She tapped one of the glass icicles and watched it spin below a branch.

"Oh, he's definitely not," Edward murmured. He glanced at Esme, but refocused on something else very quickly.

Carlisle put his arm around her shoulders, pulling her to him. He kissed her temple. "How about I pick you up after school this week?"

"You work," she reminded him. Pulling his Mercedes up in front of the school would do little to dissuade the relationship gossip.

"Only a few shifts. And I can trade them."

"No," she said, one hand on his chest to reassure him. "I can handle Jeremy. Besides, there's only a week left."

Carlisle frowned. Perhaps that's exactly what he was worried about. With Christmas around the corner, the mood in the school had shifted, creating a giddy and warm working environment. If she really thought about it, Jeremy had been sitting a little closer during their staff room lunch breaks and going out of his way to talk to her between classes, often lingering even as their students had all filed in.

"That's too tame anyway," Rosalie said, interrupting whatever Edward was about to say. "Subtlety is overrated. It's time for a grand gesture."

"I think that's the exact opposite of what we're trying to accomplish," Esme said. She looked sternly at Carlisle. "Do not trade your shifts."

Carlisle bit his lip.

"Don't worry about that, Carlisle. Rose is right. It's time for a grand gesture." Emmett unearthed a box of mistletoe from the Christmas paraphernalia. "And I think I've found it. Time to get your smooch on."

"Why do we have an entire box of this stuff?" Rosalie wondered.

Bella picked a small bunch out of the box. "Why does it still have the price tags—Alice?"

They looked towards the tree where Alice had made herself busy. Finally she huffed. "I don't control what I see, sometimes I just help it along. Emmett will figure it out."

"Oh, I will," he said, tucking the box under his arm. "Only, I think we're gunna need a bigger box."

Edward shook his head. "I'm not even going to try."

* * *

As the week progressed, Esme found herself a daily guest at the Cullen's. Christmas had infected the entire house, and after cashing in on some of his hard earned vacation time, Carlisle was conveniently off of work for close to a month and loath to spend it anywhere other than with her and his family.

It had gotten to the point that she just started packing a change of clothes in the morning so she had something comfortable to wear after school. With all his free time, Carlisle had been diligent about picking her up and dropping her off, which didn't help the rumours, but Esme would be lying if she said she wanted it any other way. He was exceptionally cheerful, and though she worked slower surrounded by him and his family (too many good distractions), she couldn't help but be thankful for how welcoming they were being. Not for the first time this month did she get the feeling that some of these extravagant Christmas preparations were being done solely for her benefit, but the enthusiasm that had captured the household seemed worth it.

Even Jasper laughed jubilantly as Alice strung garland over his shoulders, pulling him in for a kiss under a sprig of mistletoe that had appeared suddenly. The only thing out of the ordinary was Emmett, who had taken to hiding unmarked boxes in the garage. Alice and Edward simply shook their heads, looking exasperated.

It wasn't until the end of the week that Esme found out what exactly Emmett had been planning. When she left school that day, she got into Carlisle's car and looked pointedly at him. "Did you know?"

"Did I know what?" Carlisle thumbed the steering wheel. "I suspect this might have something to do with Emmett and why the garage is suddenly empty of several dozens boxes."

Esme rubbed her eyes. "He hung mistletoe from every doorway in the entire school, Carlisle. Every. Single. One. There was no time to discuss finals or the break, never mind actually teach. We spent all day encouraging students not to engage in overly exuberant displays of affection every time they walked under a door frame."

Carlisle bit his lip and tried not to laugh.

She turned to face him. "It's really not funny. Every time the janitors would remove it, more would appear, as if by magic. I don't think he even attended one class today."

"He didn't," Carlisle agreed. "I already got the phone call."

"I can't believe you condoned this."

"I didn't exactly. Contrary to popular belief, Emmett is a functioning adult. Occasionally." He pulled a green sprig of mistletoe from his coat pocket, complete with white berries. "Besides, sometimes he has the right idea."

Carlisle held the mistletoe between them, just above her line of sight. Granted, now that it wasn't some terrible prank that she was trying to control, she had to admit, the idea was kind of sweet. Though, really, any excuse to kiss Carlisle was nice.

He pulled her to him gently, wrapping his fingers tight in her jacket and kissed her. It was a breathless kind of kiss. One that left her mind blank in the moments that followed.

"What was I saying?" she whispered against his lips, her eyes still closed. The hum of his laugh filled the car, louder as she scrunched up her face, trying to regain her train of thought. "That was entirely inappropriate," she mumbled. "I'm still at school."

"No one can see us. The windows are tinted," he reminded her. Then he tucked his arm around her, grinning ear to ear. "Besides, they'll forget about it by January. Or . . . they won't."

"What has gotten into you?" she wondered, leaning back to take in the exuberant expression on his face.

"I have a surprise for you." He pulled an envelope from the console between them and handed it to her, eager eyes watching her fingers trail the seal and the flowery letters that spelled out her name.

"I thought we agreed no presents?" she said, lips pulled into a firm line.

"Technically you said Christmas presents, and it's not Christmas until next week."

Esme frowned. "This is cheating."

"I don't think so. The rules were very clear." He brushed his thumb over her cheek and lifted her chin. "Well, are you going to open it?"

He gave her a wry smile and despite her best efforts, she grinned, ripping into the envelope. She and Sarah exchanged cards every year and she always sent things for the kids, but it had been a long time since she'd been gifted a real Christmas present (or not a Christmas present according to the rules).

When she tipped the contents of the envelope into her lap, she froze. They were plane tickets to Florida. And as far as she knew, the only worthwhile thing there was Sarah. The idea had already come and gone earlier this month when she'd decided that maybe now wasn't the right time to fly across the country. She was still nervous about being alone in a place where Charles could technically find her, so she'd turned Sarah down without even broaching the idea with Carlisle. Besides the fact that he had his own family, the sun didn't exactly make for easy travel, so she knew if she went, she'd be going alone. Though that might have once been her only option, now she had people she cared about in Forks, and she wanted to be with them as well. She wanted a lot of things this year and she knew she couldn't possibly have them all. For that reason, she'd left all these thoughts safely tucked away inside her head. In hindsight, she should have known Alice and Edward would have told him.

She grinned, running her fingers over the pair of tickets.

"Does this mean you're coming with me?" she asked without looking at him. She was still trying to get a handle on he swell of emotion that was threatening to bubble over into a giant mess of tears and hugs and happy sobs.

"Well, I mean, Emmett did offer to go, though he'd probably have to fight Alice for the opportunity."

Esme nudged him, "But you do know how sunny it is in Florida, right?"

"Which is why I'll be spending most of the day in the hotel while you visit with your best friend. There just so happens to be a very prestigious medical conference going on while we're away."

"Isn't that convenient."

"I thought so. Also, Alice already booked the hotel, so she'll be very upset if you say no."

Esme sighed, feigning indecision.

"The truth is, this is for me as much as it's for you. Alice thinks some friends of ours are going to be dropping by next week, and though they don't usually hunt in the area, I would feel much better if I knew you were far away and safe."

"You mean some non-vegetarian vampires?"

"Yes."

"Well, in that case . . ." Despite the shiver that bit of news gave her, she really couldn't even muster the energy to be faux disappointed that he'd gotten her a gift. She was so beyond excited and touched that her face broke into an immaculate grin. "Can I call Sarah now?"

He chuckled. "Go ahead."

She pulled her phone from her pocket and dialed, speaking as soon as she heard the call connect.

"I don't have long," she said.

"What's going on?" Sarah said, sounding slightly concerned. "Is it Charles? Is something wrong?"

"No, not at all. It's been surprisingly quiet on that front." Esme took a moment to consider that, but after a concerned look from Carlisle she pushed it away. She would deal with the divorce drama later. "Anyway, I have good news. Amazing, actually."

"You're taking my children off my hands so I can finally sleep?"

"Better. How about I come hang out with them over Christmas?"

"Stop! You told me you couldn't make it!"

"Well, Carlisle has a," she glanced at him, "medical conference in Florida and my schedule cleared up a bit."

"No way, you and Doctor Hotpants? It's a friggen Christmas miracle."

Esme bit her lip. "So, I'll see you next week?"

"Absolutely. I'll start scrubbing the kids down now!"

There was a chorus of little _no's_ in the background that made Esme giggle. "Be nice to them."

"I'm always nice. They're the monsters. And to think, Alex wants to have another one. You can try to talk some sense into him while you're here."

"I'd never say no to another little niece or nephew, so I'm not exactly batting in your corner on this one."

"Let me get a couple glasses of wine into you first, then we'll talk."

"Whatever you say," Esme sighed with an easy smile. "I'll talk to you later, okay?"

"Sure. Say hi to Carlisle for me."

"I will. Bye." She hung up, brow raised. "I think that's the first time she's called you by your name."

"I must be making a good impression on her."

"Of course you are," Esme said, reaching across the car to weave her hand into Carlisle's coat. She tugged him closer and, using the seat for leverage, wrapped her arms around his neck. She kissed him long and hard, infusing all the _thank you's_ she could manage into that one moment.

Neither one of them seemed keen on breaking the kiss or the moment, but eventually Esme pulled away.

"Ms. Platt, that was entirely inappropriate," Carlisle teased. "We're in a school parking lot. There are children around."

"Shut up," she giggled, pushing the hair from his forehead. She looked into his golden eyes. "Thank you, Carlisle. I mean it. This is . . . the most wonderful thing anyone has done for me in a very long time."

"You deserve it," he whispered, pecking her lips. "And so much more." He turned to kiss her cheek.

"How did I get so lucky?"

"I'm the lucky one." When he finally stopped kissing her face, it was only because the parking lot had been empty for quite some time now and Carlisle's expensive car was starting to stick out in the vacant lot. "Could I interest you in dinner? Bella's cooking."

She looked down at her bag of papers, a wash of relief flooding her. For the first time in a long time, she could say yes without having to feel guilty about losing time on marking. She had the entirety of the break to finish her work and vowed to spend most of the moments enjoying Carlisle and his family.

When she nodded, Carlisle started towards his place.

"Was it Edward or Alice that told you to buy the tickets?" she wondered.

"Actually, I'd purchased the tickets before talking with them—I know how much Sarah means to you." His voice lowered just a bit. "She's your family and you should be able to see her over the holidays. Though after Alice got involved the dates shifted minutely to be more agreeable with the weather. I hope you don't mind some rain while we're away?"

She rolled her eyes, batting them slightly to control the pressure that built behind them. If Forks wasn't famous for it's rain, than what else was there? Of course a little bit of rain wouldn't bother her when it meant she got to have both Carlisle and Sarah over Christmas.

"I think I can handle it."

"I thought so. But one day I really will take you somewhere warm and sunny and we'll both lay out on a beach."

Esme laughed. "That'd have to be a deserted island, Carlisle. I'm just happy to have you with me. I don't need the sun."

His smile was grateful, but there was a twinkle in his eye that she'd have to investigate later. Alice would tell her . . . eventually.

* * *

After dinner—where she ate, Carlisle kept her company, and the kids filtered in and out spouting off random bits of conversation— Emmett cajoled both her and Carlisle into a game of cards with Rosalie.

She'd never played this particular game before, but after a dummy round, she'd caught on, unsurprised to find that her and Carlisle worked well together. There was a lot that could be read from a look and they took full advantage of that, snickering as Emmett grew impatient with them.

He flung the cards out at an alarming rate, dealing around the table. She barely noticed her pile growing until there were already five in front of her.

She picked up her hand and played a few cards, building off of Carlisle's moves. After a few hands of the game, it was already obvious that they were going to win. Again.

"How?" Emmett said, throwing his cards down. "They must be cheating."

"I think it's your terrible shuffling, babe." Rosalie split the deck again while Emmett looked affronted.

"Fine then, we'll let the human shuffle the next hand." He handed Esme the deck. "Don't worry, we all know you're slower at things. I can be patient."

He slumped dramatically in his seat, twiddling his thumbs.

Esme chuckled, shaking her head as she split the deck into two even halves, knocking them together to straighten the cards. Then she proceeded to fold them into each other, flicking the cards down until they made a buzzing sound.

Carlisle raised one blond eyebrow, all questions.

Emmett sat up slowly, watching her hands. "And where did you learn to shuffle like that, hmm? Running a secret, underground gambling ring?"

"Obviously," Esme said. "But mostly college." She grinned across the table, feeling Carlisle's leg graze her calf. "We played a lot of poker."

"Sure, poker," Emmett said, throwing air quotes around the word. "You sure the word strip wasn't supposed to be in there somewhere?"

"Emmett!" Rosalie whacked him hard enough that the sound echoed.

Esme just laughed. "We were very serious players."

"Sure you were. Eddie-boy, read her mind!"

Edward looked over from the piano where he and Bella had been talking quietly. "She's thinking about your Christmas present."

Carlisle shot her a look.

"We said for each other," she defended. "Besides, you already broke that rule."

Before he could respond, Alice and Jasper danced into the room with a bowl of popcorn. "Movie time!" Alice declared and it was evident by the tone of her voice that it was not optional. She shuffled Esme over to the couch, shoving the bowl of popcorn into her lap and leaving enough room for Carlisle before sitting down on her other side.

"We're not watching Miracle on 34th Street again," Emmett called.

"It doesn't even have to be a Christmas movie," Edward said, fiddling with the TV.

"No, I suppose not," Alice agreed reluctantly after a look from Bella. "Fine, we'll vote. Throw out some options."

Esme was almost dizzied by the back and forth that ensued. Carlisle simply threw his arm around her and kissed her temple. "Kids," he whispered into her ear, bussing the side of her cheek.

In the end, they ended up watching a Christmas movie. Apparently Alice's visions came in useful as bargaining chips with her siblings.

The movie was barely half-way through when Esme felt her eyelids drooping. It wasn't entirely her fault either. The living room was pleasantly warm. The couch had those cushions you could sink into for days. And there was a quiet background chatter hovering on the peripheral of her senses—Edward and Jasper were discussing the reality of one man living in the North Pole and dropping off presents in one night.

"Maybe he was a vampire," Emmett suggested.

"Then why the milk and cookies?" Jasper asked.

"A front, obviously."

Esme shook her head, leaning into Carlisle. He wrapped her in his embrace, pressing a kiss to the top of her head. She tried to rally, to fight the yawn that overtook her.

"Sleep," he whispered.

"I should go," she said. "Before it gets too late."

"Or you could stay?"

She fought another yawn. They'd never broached that before, her staying overnight in the Cullen house. Regardless of what time it was, Carlisle always made sure she was tucked soundly in her own bed by the end of the night. Part of her suspected that he wanted her to feel safe, and despite the fact that she'd grown to care very much for his family, there was still something daunting about closing your eyes to sleep in a house full of vampires. But now, the idea of sleep sounded heavenly and she gave in easily to his suggestion. "Come," he whispered.

She wrapped her arms around his neck as he swept her from the couch and up the stairs, cradling her close to his chest. The movement was so smooth she might have slept through the entire thing. Carlisle opened the door to his bedroom and laid her upon his bed. It was already turned down, and knowing that Carlisle had no use for sleep, she wondered if Alice had foreseen this earlier.

She kicked off her socks, thankful that she had packed comfy clothes this morning that would be fine for sleeping in.

Carlisle pulled the clip from her hair and ran his fingers through the locks as they spilled over the pillow.

"It's going to be messy in the morning," she mumbled.

"I like it," he assured her.

She was out before she could see him smile.

* * *

She woke the next morning to the smell of coffee and groaned happily as she stretched. It took her a moment to orient herself, realizing that she was still at the Cullen house.

Carlisle chuckled beside her. "Good morning to you, too."

"Hello," she whispered, rolling over on her pillow to stare at him. He was lying down, instead of in his usual position sitting up with a journal on his lap.

He had one arm perched under his head and was wearing a new set of jeans and a t-shirt. It cut very close to him, much different than his usual dress shirts or sweaters, and Esme laid her hand against his chest, smoothing over the hard planes of muscle. Carlisle's eyelashes fluttered closed as her hand continued its trail south, slipping over his abdomen and circling the dip of his navel.

She sat up, leaning on one arm, to take in the beauty of him in the early winter light. He was utterly breathtaking, like one of the marble statues of old had awoken and crawled into her bed, each angle sculpted to perfection, each edge perfectly rounded, the surface flawlessly smooth. Her fingers trembled as she reached the edge of his belt buckle and she withdrew her hand, watching his throat work.

Sometimes she wanted to scale the man and drag him towards the next horizontal surface. Other times that thought still made her a nervous and anxious mess. This was one of those rare times when she wondered about what it would be like to be with him. To let herself be intimate with another man. For a few moments she imagined it and warmth stirred beneath her skin.

When Carlisle opened his eyes they were dark and honeyed, like orange topaz—the want clear in his face. He must have seen it in hers because it was only an instant before he had moved, covering her body with his own, pressing her into the pillow as his lips begged hers for entrance.

She gasped at the prodding of his tongue, deepening the kiss, fingers tangled in his hair. It was clear that her body said go. She wanted this. She wanted him. But something in her head made her hesitate. It was only an moment where she seized up, but Carlisle recognized it and broke away, his eyes crushed as if in pain. "I'm sorry," he gasped.

"Don't be," Esme said, pulling his face back to hers slowly, giving them both time. It had only been a flash, a single moment of hesitation stuffed between a jumble of want and need and excitement. All of which surfaced stronger than before, erasing her nerves. She kissed the corner of his mouth before moving to his throat, leaving a dizzying line of kisses beneath his jaw and along the porcelain column of his neck. She felt him respond eagerly, a deep moan rising through his chest.

His hands drew towards her waist, clutching at her skin, rubbing smooth circles into her hips. "Esme," he growled as her arms wrapped around his neck. She broke her kisses when his lips reached the hollow at the bottom of her throat, his tongue reaching out to trace the lines of her collar bones. Her head fell back against the pillow in utter bliss and she gasped for breath that she hadn't even realized she needed.

His hand fell to her chest, feeling for the steady thrum of her heart. The beat seemed to calm him and he eased his ministrations against her skin.

He lifted his hand to dance against her cheekbone, his fingers leaving shivers in their wake. He grinned at her. "How did you sleep?"

"Good. For a moment I forgot where I was."

"Did you?"

"Yes, I smelled the coffee and was very confused."

Carlisle chuckled, pulling her close. "Bella has been rather busy this morning. Would you like to come down to breakfast?"

"Let me shower first?"

Carlisle offered her a hand and pulled her from the bed. "Alice left you some spare clothes last night—something of Bella's I believe." He led her into his ensuite bathroom, an elegant room of grey stone tile and the biggest shower head she had ever seen in her life. "Alice has assured me that you'll find everything to your liking." He kissed the tip of her nose. "Towels are in the linen closet."

"Thank you."

He left her to have her human moments, which she thoroughly enjoyed. For a family of people who didn't really need these kinds of conveniences, they sure knew how to design a room. She marvelled at the fixtures and accent choices as she lathered up in the sweet smelling soaps Alice had left for her.

When she finished, dressed in some of Bella's borrowed clothes, she found Carlisle waiting patiently on the bed for her, hands tucked behind his head.

"You look pensive," she said, running her fingers through her almost dry hair. She'd used the hairdryer on it for a few minutes, letting her natural curls bounce around her shoulders. "What's on your mind?"

"You," he answered immediately.

She shot him a look. "Anything in particular?"

"Just . . . it's different, having you here. A good different," he was quick to add.

She sat down next to him. He sat up, until they were thigh to thigh, legs dangling over the side of the bed.

"I've wanted you to be able to stay here for a while now, but I worried you might have a nightmare. Sometimes you still do, and I know they're not about me, I just worried about triggering you if I pulled you out of your normal environment."

"That's . . . very thoughtful," she said.

He studied her face for a moment and the look must have bothered him because he was quick to ask, "Are you upset?"

"No . . . no. Honestly, I sort of expected to trigger something myself. Don't get me wrong, Carlisle, I love you and your family, but sleeping in a house full of vampires is . . . well, I thought it would bother me at least. But it didn't." She laced their hands together. "And you worried about triggering nightmares from my past, and it didn't. You're always so good about these things."

"These aren't just things, Esme." He turned her hand over in his palm and traced the lines on her hand. "They're you, both good and bad. I want to know them all. To learn them. And to help you through them."

"Thank you."

His brows puckered and his eyes fell and she was certain that he would tell her not to thank him, but she had to. She really did. So they both agreed, in the silence, to let the other have their say.

"Does that mean you'd be amenable to spending more time here?" Carlisle wondered after a beat. "Days and nights?"

"I suppose I could be convinced," Esme teased, attempting to lighten the serious mood. "There are certain people I do adore here. Edward, Alice, Rosalie . . ." she listed.

She chuckled at the eager look on his face and he tackled her to the bed.

She giggled, pushing away his pesky fingers, finally holding them between her own so she could catch her breath. "I'll need to keep some things here," she said. "Spare clothes. Toiletries. If I'm going to stay over sometimes."

"Of course. I'll drive you home after breakfast to pick some stuff up."

"You're sure everyone else will be okay with this? It's one thing to entertain a human during the day, but if I stay over they never get rid of me."

Carlisle pulled her against his chest. "It's more than okay," he said. "Alice already made room in the closet."

"Well, I guess that settles it then."

"I'd say so." He wrapped her up in a hug, cradling her close, before dropping his head and groaning into her skin. He'd clearly heard something in the house that she couldn't hear. "Alice thinks it's a lovely idea and would like to take you shopping."

"I don't really need to go shopping," she said. "I'm just leaving a few things here."

"She thought you might like to pick out a few paint strips. Apparently you and I have a weekend of painting in our future." He studied the walls of his room. "I suppose it could use a new coat. She's always teasing me, but I've never really been one to mind some good old, off-white. She thinks I spend too much time at the hospital and that has paled my aesthetic judgement."

Esme looked around at the pale cream walls, already envisioning a nice grey-mauve combination. And maybe some new accent pillows for the window seat. And a new bedspread in dark grey geometric patterns. And . . . Carlisle chuckled at the giddy look on her face.

She leaned into him. "It's like she knew exactly what to say."

Carlisle cuddled her closer. "That's how Alice works," he whispered. "Good luck getting rid of us now, Ms. Platt."

"What if I don't want to get rid of you?"

"All the better." He squeezed her once around the waist. "Shall we go down then?"

"Not just yet," she said. "I think we need to talk colour schemes for a little while." She pressed her hands against his chest, pushing him down to the bed, letting her hair fall loose as she leaned over to kiss him. "You don't mind, do you?"

He growled—a happy, playful sound—as he rolled them over, tracing the curve of her jaw with his lips. And she knew, he didn't mind at all.

* * *

A/N: So, anyway, this is really late (like really, really late), but if you're still around and reading it thanks! I'll try not to take a two month break in between my next post :D


	24. Chapter 24

The snow had been a steady companion for the last few days and as Esme watched the flakes cling and melt against the glass of the window in Carlisle's bedroom, she couldn't help but think that she'd miss that sight. They were leaving for the airport soon and although Sarah was at the other end of the flight, there was just something about having a white Christmas that really cemented the holidays in her mind.

Resigned, she looked back to her bags and debated about sitting on the lid of her suitcase to see if she could compress her clothes anymore. Apparently when you filled a suitcase with toys in order to spoil your honorary niece and nephew, there was little room for the essentials like socks and underwear.

Carlisle glanced at her from the other side of the bed where he was neatly folding his shirts. The gentle smirk on his face made her suspect that he knew exactly what she was thinking.

Abandoning all hope of getting her zipper to close, she fell against the bed, lying flat on her back. "Do you think we have everything?"

"Maybe we should ask Alice." Carlisle shot her a cheeky grin. Even upside down it was the most beautiful grin she'd ever seen.

"Very funny." She ran a hand through her hair, untangling the curls, and sighed. "Oh, I don't even care anymore." She turned over onto her stomach, propping her head on her hand. "My bag is too heavy. As it is, I don't even think it will roll."

"I'll carry it," he told her.

"And your own bag, which I know is just as heavy? Won't that look a little suspicious?"

"It'll be late when we get in."

"No, it's fine," she said. "I'll just express post some of the kids' gifts."

"Love, it's fine, really. I can handle a couple of heavy bags."

She smiled up at him. There were some advantages to loving someone whose strength and speed could marvel creatures of myth. In all honesty, he _was_ a creature of myth. "I suppose I'm being silly."

He walked around to her side of the bed and she sat up. "Just a little."

With deft hands, he tucked her things beneath the lid of the suitcase and pressing down with very little effort, zipped it closed. "There," he said. "It's contained. Whether or not it spontaneously combusts en route is yet to be seen."

Esme chuckled. He scooped her off the bed then, almost as if to make a point. Her chuckle became a gasp as he cradled her against his chest.

Wrapping her arms around his neck, she studied him closely. A rare patch of winter sun dropped through the skylight, painting his skin with tiny crystals. She traced them with her fingertips, forever astounded by the sheer strength contained in his porcelain features. "When exactly does that become an issue anyway?"

"What?"

"The strength. I mean, yesterday Emmett was out in the garage acting as the jack while Rosalie changed one of the tires on Edward's Volvo."

"I'm not exactly sure where the line is," Carlisle said truthfully. "That answer is rather subjective. Lifting a car is definitely in the realms, but it varies in degrees. Emmett is certainly the strongest of all of us."

"So, two cars?" she asked.

"Most definitely, though I've never tried it myself."

"No wonder I've yet to see you at the annual car lifting competitions."

"Oh, you're hilarious," Carlisle murmured against her skin, letting his lips trace the outline of her ear.

She tipped her head away from him as a pleasant shiver shot down her spine. She very much wanted to kiss him right now, only they were supposed to be leaving shortly if they were going to make it to the airport on time, and she knew very well that she'd find it impossible to stop once they started.

Still, her eyes drifted to his lips, her tongue darting out to moisten her own. There was a common desire in his heated gaze, the warm honey of his eyes darkening slightly. _Well_ , she thought, _that certainly didn't help her resolve_. She wiggled out of his arms, slipping away as he reached for her. "We need to get going," she said, giggling as he caught her waist again.

"I think we can spare a few minutes, don't you?"

"You're far too distracting for just a few minutes."

Carlisle looked thoughtful, sobering somewhat, his playful demeanour shifting into something more refined. "I'd say we have plenty of time, but then again, I know you prefer us not to break _all_ the speeding laws."

"Not all at once," she murmured.

Carlisle chuckled, pulling her close and pressing his nose into her hair. He inhaled deeply and it was a long moment before he released it again. When he did his breath drifted down her neck, his scent surrounding her in an intoxicating fog.

"Maybe just a few minutes," she whispered, ghosting her nose beneath his chin. His skin was cold and smooth, though the fire that coursed through her blood whenever she touched him fed her nerves and she barely noticed the temperature difference at all.

Her lips searched for his, her hands drifting across the hard planes of his chest and over broad shoulders. The slide over his shoulders was always enticing, letting her fingers trace the outline of firm muscles all the way down his back. She stopped at his waist, her arms circling as his mouth opened against hers and a moan stirred from deep inside her. If she could spend an eternity suspended in moments like these, she'd have no need for anything else.

Emboldened by the sound of her desire for him, Carlisle's hands roamed from their usual place at her hips, tracing the curve of her spine up her back. His cool fingers threaded into her hair, loose curls splayed between his fingers as he tipped her head gently, giving him access to her neck. His lips ghosted across her skin, sucking gently at her pulse and for a moment she wondered if her legs would give out. Or perhaps she'd combust. Or else melt into a puddle on the floor. Only Carlisle didn't let any of these things happen, instead pulling her closer, his hands roaming over her hips, dangerously close to her backside.

Though a small part of her knew it was time to stop, most of her wondered if he would follow if she tugged him onto the bed. Were either of them ready for where this could go?

Suddenly the bedroom door flew open and Emmett walked in. "So, airport chauffeur leaves in twenty! I'm here to collect the baggage."

With a small gasp, Esme turned her head, hiding her surprise behind Carlisle's shoulder. His back was to the door, shielding her from view, but present company could probably hear how quickly her heart was racing.

"Knock, right?" Emmett drawled. "I should knock next time? Before you end up horizontal?"

"That is usually the standard begged of a closed door," Carlisle said, a hint of amusement in his voice. He didn't turn to look at Emmett though, his eyes fixed firmly on her flushed face as he traced the colour in her cheeks with the tip of his finger.

"Oh, you knew exactly what was going on behind that door," Alice said, elbowing Emmett who grinned smugly, tucking suitcases under his arm. "Don't even pretend."

Esme ducked her head, smiling shyly when Carlisle caught her eye. It was not the first time a member of his family had walked in on them and she somehow sensed it would not be the last. At least they were in a less compromising position this time. Last time they'd been tangled up on the couch downstairs and she'd literally pulled Carlisle's body down on top of hers to hide as Emmett snickered. She was certainly developing a thick skin with him around. Of course is was harmless fun, but there was still something inherently unnerving about being discovered by Carlisle's children for all intents and purposes—she didn't care how old they were or how many times they'd been married.

"Carlisle, can I speak to you?" Alice said quickly, nodding down the hall to his study.

"Of course." He squeezed Esme's hands, gave Emmett a hard look, and then followed Alice into the hall.

It was a quiet moment as she glanced across the room at Emmett, who looked like some overgrown college kid with all the bags tucked under his arm. His chest shook with silent laughter and when Esme finally broke, he beamed. "For the record, I knew it was safe. Alice never would have let me come in otherwise."

"So you've been given airport duty?"

"More like volunteered. I didn't get Carlisle a Christmas gift yet, so I'm gonna drive you there out of the goodness of my loving heart and call it even."

Esme raised a delicate brow as Emmett led her into the hall and down the stairs.

"Hey," he said, "no judging. I know this whole relationship thing is new, but when a guy's been alive for like three hundred years, you kind of run out of things to buy him."

"That just means you have to get creative."

Emmett placed their bags by the door downstairs, walked across the room, and stole a bow from one of the neatly wrapped gifts Alice had placed under the tree. He stuck it to the front of his shirt, the bright gold matching his eyes. Then, like a seven year old kid, he rattled the gift around like the sound might reveal what was tucked inside. "Bet it's socks."

He tossed it back under the tree and held his arms out, gesturing to the bow stuck to his chest. "Do I get points for creativity now?"

Esme smirked. "I suppose."

"Well, you lasted longer than last year," Alice said as she danced down the stairs, a bright smile on her face, almost like she was trying to make up for the stone look on Carlisle's. He followed behind her with much less enthusiasm and Esme wondered what their conversation had consisted of—it was obviously bothering him.

"I wasn't peeking," Emmett insisted, pointing at the gift he'd abandoned. "That one's not even mine. It's for Edward."

"I just switched all the names around so you wouldn't be able to tell."

Emmett gaped at her, then back to the tree. "That's so evil."

"It was Edward's idea."

"Mmm hmm," he mumbled.

Just as Esme meant to ask Carlisle if he was okay, Alice took her by the arm, leading her down the hall where her coat was already laid out over the back of the sofa. "I took the liberty of packing a hat and gloves for you. I know Florida will be warm, but it's supposed to be dreadfully cold when you come back."

"Thanks, Alice," Esme said, distracted. She spied over her shoulder, where Emmett and Carlisle were now speaking quietly, the easy grin Emmett so often wore nowhere to be seen.

"You're going to have a wonderful time, though I know I don't need to tell you that. And the weather is going to be surprisingly cooperative. Warm but a rainy week, so you might even be able to get Carlisle out of the hotel during the day."

Call it intuition from all the years spent working with kids, but Esme had the distinct impression that Alice was trying to distract her and she was not buying it. She turned back to Alice, her intent clear.

Alice gave her a patient smile and squeezed her hand. "Everything is fine, Esme. I promise. I know you're new, but people generally—"

"Don't bet against you," Esme echoed.

Alice beamed, then hugged her, surprising Esme with the intensity of it. "I'm so glad you found each other," she whispered. When she pulled away, Esme's eyes were glassy, but there was no time to deal with the onset of emotion as she was being bundled out the door by Emmett who was compensating for something with an impressive amount of cheer—even for him.

"Alright, I suppose no one wants to ride shotgun," he said as Esme climbed into the back of his jeep, followed closely by Carlisle. "Which means I get control of the radio, but as part two of my gift, I won't subject you elderly types to anything that will hurt your precious ear drums. Which also includes that station that plays non-stop Christmas carols. Bella's had that one on for days and I'm ready to lose my mind." He turned around to face them. "Buckled in? Safety first."

"Just drive, Emmett." Carlisle's expression had relaxed somewhat and he laid his hand over her knee as Emmett went tearing down the driveway.

The ride to Seattle was punctuated with traffic, snow-capped trees, and one liners from Emmett. True to his word, he didn't subject them to his favourite brand of rock the entire ride, and he also managed to drive in a way that didn't make her nauseous or dizzy.

It was clear he was restraining himself, watching the speedometer longingly.

Esme smiled to herself—this family and their infatuation with speed.

Once at the airport, Emmett pulled into the drop-off zone, popping the trunk as they all got out and gathered at the back of the jeep.

"Alright, you two should go now," Emmett said, twisting the key ring around his finger as Carlisle pulled their bags out of the trunk. "My job here is done." He took the gift wrap bow from his chest and stuck it to the top of Carlisle's suitcase. "Signed. Sealed. Delivered."

"It's almost like he's trying to get rid of us," Esme whispered.

"Yes," Carlisle said. He cast a wary eye at Emmett but the boy broke into a jovial grin.

"Wild parties planned for every night you're gone. Got to take advantage of the adult-free-zone."

Emmett was obviously joking but there was something else there, too. A look that passed quickly between him and Carlisle. A look that shattered as soon as she tried to capture it. Perhaps the Cullen's visitors were showing up earlier than they originally thought.

Emmett walked them to the main door before saying goodbye.

He hugged Carlisle first, lingering for a moment as they spoke in quick, quiet words. It was obviously meant for other people not to hear—she definitely couldn't. Emmett nodded as he pulled away, a tight expression masking his usually cheery face.

Before he left, he gave her a crushing hug that pulled her off her feet. Carlisle's hand on Emmett's shoulder reminded him not to squeeze too hard before he put her down.

"Have fun," he said. "Don't do anything I wouldn't do."

"Likewise," Esme said and Emmett cackled.

She could still hear his booming laugh as he made his way back to his jeep.

As soon as he was gone, she turned to Carlisle who was watching her expectantly. "Is something wrong?"

"Nothing you need worry about, love."

"Carlisle—"

"We should check in." He took both their bags, leading the way inside, pausing long enough for her to catch up. She fell in step beside him.

They didn't speak much as they made their way through security. Carlisle drew the usual attention, but he'd become accustom to blending in, so once they'd been cleared, they made their way towards the gate with little hassle.

The gate wasn't far from security, but Carlisle picked an area that was still mostly empty to sit in—there was a pair of teenagers consumed by their phones and an elderly man sleeping several seats over from the one he chose, but other than that they were alone for the moment. He sat in one of the leather chairs bolted to the wall of the terminal and she sat beside him, unsure about the look on his face, but he immediately looped his arm around her shoulders, pulling her against his side. "I didn't mean to worry you," he said, pressing a gentle and discreet kiss near her temple. "Or exclude you. I'm sorry."

"So I wasn't imagining things?"

"No," Carlisle admitted, looking chagrined for a moment.

"Is it your visitors?" Esme wondered. It was the only thing that explained his behaviour. If something was wrong, Carlisle wasn't there to deal with it because he was with her, so it only made sense that it would cause him distress.

"You're far too perceptive for your own good," he said, not unkindly, but with a sigh.

"I wish I didn't have to be," she replied without looking at him. She wasn't mad exactly, perhaps a little frustrated, but mostly saddened that he didn't feel he could share whatever it was with her.

Carlisle reached around, a gentle finger on her chin pulling her face towards him. His porcelain features were creased in apology, his eyes heavy and burdened as they studied her. "You're right. I _am_ sorry, Esme."

"I know you worry about telling me these things about . . . those who don't follow your lifestyle," she said quietly, "but you can. I'm not that delicate."

"I wasn't trying to save you from it per say, only my own pride," he confessed.

"What do you mean?"

"Alice had a vision. It wasn't clear, but there's an attack that happens close to town. We aren't sure yet, but it may be one of our kind. Our visitors know enough not to hunt in the area, but the temptation is always there and often hard to ignore. If they happen to slip, it'll create quite a stir in town, which is attention we do not want. Alice and Edward are hoping to head it off before it happens."

"Will they be able to?"

"Alice's visions have saved us before."

Esme nodded, her chin grazing part of his chest. "Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

"Because it is a poor reflection of what I stand for, though a very instinctual part of what we are. I can't fault them for they way they choose to exist when it is the image we were created in."

"I don't think any less of you. You must know that, Carlisle." She looked up at him with wide, unblinking eyes.

"I feared you might," he said, his tone careful, but not enough to hide the slip of insecurity. "You've only seen our kind in the shadow of my family. I know I've explained our struggle, but I believe our existence is meant for more than that. And despite all this and my best intentions, you have no concept of the horror my kind is capable of." He swallowed hard and she shivered. "I feared once you really understood, you'd be frightened. I couldn't risk pushing you away or tarnishing the image you hold of me. I'm very selfish when it comes to you, I've realized. I'm sorry."

"You don't have to apologize for wanting to protect me." She spent years wishing there had been someone there to do that for her. Only now things were different. Now she'd regained a little of what she'd lost of herself. So, maybe she still needed protecting, but she was going to have some say in it. She wasn't going to walk ignorant and blind through everything. She'd spent long enough running from her problems. In some cases, she still was. But she could handle this—she _wanted_ to. Just like her, Carlisle held parts of himself back. The parts that painted him in darkness. The parts that might push her away. He held them back in fear, but she didn't want him to be afraid. If this was going to work between them, he was going to have to share with her.

"I'm not afraid of you, Carlisle. I don't think I ever could be." She rested her hand against his chest, feeling him take a breath he didn't need. "But you can't shelter me from everything to do with your life. Every time you do, you shelter me from parts of you, too."

"Are you sure you want to know those parts?"

"Yes."

He frowned, but nodded. "Very well."

"You know, not all humans are inherently good either. Some choose to do terrible things and what is their excuse?" She didn't mean to refer to Charles, but the way his arm tightened around her made her think that was the connection he made. "I know there are some of your kind that differ from you in their views and although I much prefer your way, I suppose I can understand the world they come from."

"Can you?"

"It's biological on some level. Predator and prey." She envisioned all sorts of apex predators, none of which ever fought against their desire to hunt and kill what they were meant to hunt and kill. "The fact that you abstain and that you've built a family dedicated to the same, is all the more remarkable because of it." She lifted their joint hands and kissed the top of his palm.

"You're amazing, you know that?" He looked at her with warm and vibrant eyes, relief clear in his posture and his tone.

She settled against him more freely, enjoying his company. "So I've been told."

He gave a breathy laugh and it vibrated through his chest. She could feel him shake his head gently.

"What is it?"

"I was just thinking that never in the past three hundred years did I think I'd be sitting here."

Esme lifted her head, a funny expression on her face. "In an airport?"

"No, love, I meant . . . with a woman that makes me so incredibly happy. It was always something I dreamed of, finding someone to share my life with in this way. But as each decade passed I still found myself alone. The others have certainly helped fill that lonely void and the love shared between them has always given me hope, but this is the first time that kind of love seems tangible, like something I can have and not just think about."

"Oh, Carlisle," she said, throwing her arm over his chest. She squeezed him as hard as she dared, knowing she'd hurt herself before she ever hurt him. "You don't have to feel alone anymore. I'm not going anywhere."

His hands folded over her, creating a protective loop, and for a brief moment she wished they were anywhere but in the middle of an airport terminal surrounded by hundreds of other people. "Even when you realize I'm not as perfect as you may think?"

She was quiet for a moment. Then she said, "I don't think anyone can be perfect. That's asking a lot, even of someone like you." She kissed the column of his throat. Hovering by his ear, she whispered, "But you're perfect for me."

"So that settles it then?" he said quietly.

"I'd say so."

For the next hour they waited to board the plane, neither of them willing to let each other go. Finally they announced their boarding over the intercom speaker and Carlisle pulled her up to board with the first group of people.

Once on the plane, she stopped by her seat, looking down at her ticket for confirmation. This couldn't be right?

"First class?" She shot him a look over her shoulder as she slid into the row, feeling very foreign in the spacious leather seat.

"To be fair," Carlisle said, "this part was Alice's doing." He sat down beside her. "She favours those credit cards that earn you miles with the airlines. It makes upgrading rather easy, which is usually a convenience to us as there are fewer people crammed into first class."

She'd been about to scold him for spending so much money on her, but then considering what he was hinting at—the fact that the recycled air on the plane must be both intoxicating and irresistible to a vampire—she frowned at him in sympathy. Being around people was hard enough, but being trapped in the air where he couldn't escape must be even more terrible. "I guess even your legendary self control has its limits?"

His eyes twinkled as his face broke into a charming smile. "Oh, it doesn't bother me. Not after all this time. I just wanted to spoil you."

"You're impossible," Esme said. He wore a smug expression as the plane started to fill and the flight crew took up their positions. "To think, I actually felt bad for you for a moment."

Although she wasn't sure how she felt about him—or his family—spending so much on her, she was just glad to see that he was in better spirits than earlier. Whatever was weighing on him had been eased somewhat by their conversation, enough that he could tease her freely again.

"Shall I send your concerns promptly to our complaints department?" He held his phone up where a text message from Alice flashed on the screen.

"Just because I am immensely fond of Alice doesn't mean she's off the hook either."

Carlisle leaned over and brushed his lips across her cheek. "Does that make it better?" he whispered, too low for anyone around them to hear.

Esme sat straight back against her seat, swallowing as she wrung her hands in her lap.

His lips touched the shell of her ear, moving slowly with the weight of his words, "How about this?"

Her eyelids fluttered closed and she worked hard to control what felt like gasping breaths rushing into her lungs. Whatever game they were playing, he was cheating.

"Tell me you forgive me, or I'll keep apologizing," he said. His lips drew a sensual path from behind her ear, down along the side of her neck.

That was her breaking point. If they were anywhere else she might just let him continue and see where it took them. But here, on a plane that was about to depart, Esme couldn't take it anymore. She squinted and in a rush, mumbled that he was forgiven.

When she opened her eyes, her hands were plastered over her knees, her fingers digging into her jeans. The hot blush that flamed down her neck made her feel guilty and she looked around, expecting someone to be staring at them, but everyone around them was preoccupied, and Carlisle smiled to himself.

"That wasn't at all fair," she said, taking a deep breath and sitting back in her seat.

"I never said I would play fair, Ms. Platt."

"Oh, so we're back to that, Doctor Cullen?"

He reached across her lap to take her hand, weaving their fingers together. "Never," he said. "I never want to think about going back to a time when I didn't know you like this. It seems like an entirely different lifetime now. Like something ended and something new began the moment I met you."

He brought her hand to his lips and kissed it.

Her entire body flushed when he said things like that. Sometimes she could pick out his rich history in the way he spoke to her, but in this particular instance, his words rang with a truth that she could easily attest to. Meeting Carlisle had definitely been a defining moment in her life. There were all the moments that came before, but for some reason they felt disconnected to all the moments that had so far come after.

"To think, if I hadn't slipped on that ice and hit my head, we might never have met."

"I like to think that fate would have intervened. That somehow we were meant to find each other."

"That's a very beautiful thought."

"I have been known to dabble," he joked, his voice a gentle whisper. He grew quiet and contemplative, then he asked: "What did you think of me when we first met?"

"At the hospital?"

He nodded.

"Well, there were a bunch of things that I cannot repeat in public," she said. They shared a smile, but Esme could tell that if Carlisle could blush he would have been. "Though it might have just been the concussion talking."

He laughed at that, eased by her teasing.

"And then," she continued, "I distinctly remember thinking that your hands were cold, but that they felt exceptionally good against my swollen head. By the next morning I had decided that you might have been the kindest man I had ever met."

"Ah, so I was a glorified ice pack?"

"Exactly what I was hoping you'd take from that."

He grinned, sitting back in his seat. He stared towards the overhead lighting panel, like he was trying to remember something, though she'd been briefed in the perfect recall of the vampire mind and knew very well that he could remember that day in intricate detail.

"I remember feeling completely blindsided by you—I actually forgot my words for a moment. First I was intrigued by how easily you affected me. Then I was enthralled. And by the time I discharged you, I was hooked and I knew I had to know you."

"What if we had never spoken again after that point?"

"I would have been beside myself," Carlisle said. "It was hard enough when you put all the pieces together and started to push me away, but I held on to the hope that you knew what I was and hadn't run screaming from town."

"I was sort of beside myself at that point, too. It seems ridiculous now."

"Rightly so," Carlisle said. "It would have been strange for you not to be confused and upset."

"I think I was more hysterical if I remember correctly."

"You know, after our first meeting in the hospital, I spent an inordinate amount of time in town, hoping to run into you."

"I never knew that!" Esme gasped. "No one ever said anything."

"I think the kids have agreed to bury my strange behaviour during those weeks in the past as a favour. I bought enough groceries in one week to probably feed all of Forks. Emmett and Rosalie kept making trips to local food shelters to get rid of it all. Needless to say, when I got your phone call about Emmett, I was secretly thrilled."

"Alice is a little mastermind, isn't she?"

"I think I owe her—I'm not even sure what. I can't equate loving you to anything tangible. Anything I could give her would never be enough to show her how indebted I am to her."

"That makes two of us," Esme said. She turned her head towards him and he closed the gap to kiss her gently on the lips.

As the last of the passengers boarded, the plane began to taxi towards the runway. Esme closed her eyes as the engines started to whir, that silly, childhood fear of flying resurfacing like it always did. Carlisle must have been watching her because suddenly she felt his hand on her knee.

"Do you not like flying?"

"Does anyone really?" He touched her wrist with his cool fingertips and she opened her eyes enough to give him a weak smile. "It's not my favourite thing."

"You didn't tell me you had a fear of flying." He looked intrigued more than anything, like this was one of those bits of information that he tucked away in his mind about her.

"It wasn't important," Esme shrugged. She'd never been a fan of flying, preferring to keep her feet firmly on the ground, but it was the only way she was able to easily see Sarah, and for that alone she'd boarded the plane. "Besides, it's better with you here."

He stroked the side of her face, pushing the loose curls behind her ear. She leaned against him, now grateful for the space in the first class seats he'd bought. After the plane took off and reached altitude, she was able to curl up by his side. Although she'd brought her winter coat on board, it had been abandoned in her carry on, the thin long sleeve more appropriate for their upcoming destination. Carlisle, however, wore a thick sweater. Their plane was due to land in the early evening; Alice had assured them that the sun would not be an issue upon reaching Florida today, but Carlisle had been cautious anyhow, covering up as much as possible. Esme was thankful for that now, seeing as his arms tucked around her did not make her shiver, but instead brought her comfort.

She could feel every little dip and bump as the plane adjusted and though she presumed some of it was just heightened by her overactive imagination, Esme did a great deal of work trying to distract herself. The flight would be a little over five and a half hours and that thought alone made her queasy.

Having Carlisle to keep her company was a nice distraction. Although it did little to change the flurry of her heart when the plane dipped unexpectedly, his patient chuckle was always enough to assure her that everything was fine. He brushed his thumb along her wrist, calming the frantic scurry of her pulse.

Eventually she dragged out some marking, hoping to be completely caught up by the time winter break ended. Between that and the whispered words Carlisle spoke into her ear, the flight passed without incident, and she grinned at the stretch of lights that lit the roads of the sleeping Florida streets as they landed.

* * *

 **A/N:** Wow, so I've decided airport layovers longer than three hours is where my brain cells go to die. So have an airport chapter as I sit here in Toronto for my flight to Halifax to go apartment hunting. Also, I think I've found the only plug in this whole goshforsaken place that actually works to charge my laptop. Like how is that even possible? Someone needs to go flip the breakers, geezus. Anyway, not too much happened, but they had some good chats, which I think is important. So much of the story is focused on Esme's growth, but I think Carlisle's uncertainty and fears run just as deep. Plus now we're gearing up to meet Sarah (in-person) which is exciting and I can't wait for all of her Doctor Hotpants comments :D


	25. Chapter 25

Navigating the airport was far less burdensome coming in at night, Esme discovered, as she and Carlisle departed the plane. There were weary eyed businessmen and the occasional parent carrying a sleeping toddler, but the usual hustle and bustle that filled the terminals during the day had been reduced to a few snoring passengers crammed into chairs, waiting for connecting flights.

As Alice promised, the sky was already dark beyond the lights of the airport, grey clouds just barely visible against the twilight backdrop.

Carlisle led the way through the terminal and towards the baggage claim. He collected their things and then escorted Esme to the car rental agency located in the parkade beneath the airport.

Esme grinned at the black Mercedes that he was given keys for. "Didn't you want to try something new?"

Carlisle gave the car a once over, making sure everything was in order before returning to her side to deposit their things in the trunk. "I thought you might like the familiarity," he said. "You'll be driving it during the day."

"Oh," she said. In all honesty the thought hadn't crossed her mind. She'd been so caught up thinking about Sarah, she hadn't considered all the time she and Carlisle would have to spend apart thanks to the sun. She'd been excited to take the trip together, and to introduce Carlisle to Sarah, but seeing as he'd spend most of his time alone in the hotel room, she couldn't help but feel that he'd gotten the raw end of the deal. He'd certainly packed enough patient files and paperwork to keep him busy, yet it seemed unfair to have dragged him across the country, away from his family during the holidays, only to lock him away.

"What's that look for?" he murmured, pulling her close by tucking his finger into one of the belt loops on her pants. She went to him easily, letting his strong arms encase her.

"What look?"

"You're pouting."

"I do not pout," she insisted.

"If you'd prefer another car—"

"It's not about the car," she sighed. "It's you."

He frowned down at her. "Did I do something wrong?"

"No, of course not." She pulled out of his arms and took his hands instead, studying their interwoven fingers. "Actually, yes, I guess you sort of did."

"Well, I'm very eager to find out what?"

"You bought me these wonderful plane tickets and brought me across the country for the holidays so that I could spend time with the people I care about, meanwhile, all the people you care about are back in Forks and you're going to spend the majority of this holiday cooped up in a hotel." She paused and took a breath, realizing that she was rambling at this point. "I think my excitement got the better of me and I didn't see how entirely unfair this entire trip is for you."

Carlisle simply shook his head. "You couldn't be more wrong, love."

Now it was Esme's turn to frown. "About which part?"

"That the people I care about are in Forks. I mean, yes, of course they are. But there is one particular person who is immensely important to me, who happens to be standing right here. I've lived through many holidays, Esme; so trust me when I say that getting to spend time with you here is the best of them by far."

She rolled her eyes but chuckled when he pulled her close again and pecked her nose. She wrinkled it at the feel of his cold lips, eyeing him dubiously. "Really, in all three hundred years? I find that hard to believe."

"I can't remember a time when I was so happy. And if you recall, I happen to have a flawless memory."

Esme bit her lip, watching his gold eyes sweep over her face before coming to rest on her own. "I just don't want you to feel bored, or lonely, or—"

He swept her into a hug that almost pulled her off her feet. If it had been busier there would definitely be people watching them now. "I spent so much of my life alone, feeling lonely even surrounded by a roomful of people, but that all changed the day I met you. Your presence in my life has affected me in an integral way, and a few hours in a hotel room are not enough to change that."

She smiled at his words, breathless by his conviction, and dizzied by the truth.

"Do you believe me now?" he whispered. "Can I stop making these very personal declarations in the middle of an airport parking lot?"

She chuckled at the amused look on his face. "I suppose the concrete leaves something to be desired."

"My family has been feeding me tips on romance for months and this venue would not make Alice's list in the slightest. She'll be very disappointed in me." He took her face gently between his palms. "But that aside, I do love you very much and there is nowhere else I'd rather be than here on this trip with you; so please do not fret anymore. Just enjoy yourself."

He kissed her then, soft, yet deep, and the flutter of her heart picked up until she was sure her skin must have been vibrating from the motion.

"I think we've pushed our luck," he said, smiling as he looked over her shoulder.

She could imagine the sales team, bored in these late hours, glued to the windows. She didn't need to look in order to envision them pressed up against the glass. "You _are_ quite the sight," she told him.

He just shook his head at her, opening the passenger door. "Get in, love."

Esme did as he asked, chuckling to herself.

Carlisle drove through the dark, leaving the parkade and the airport without direction, and yet taking them easily through the city towards their hotel. She wondered what the world looked like through his eyes. As it was, she had to squint as they passed overnight truckers, the high beams making her eyes water.

She wiped them with the edge of her finger, massaging away the ache that had settled there.

"Are you tired?" he asked, turning down a street lined with palm trees.

"How could I be? I slept on the plane."

"Flying is a disorienting thing," Carlisle said. "And you weren't really asleep."

"Maybe not," she agreed. It had been that fidgety, in-and-out of consciousness sleep that had claimed her for parts of the flight. Just as she would drift off, some shift or dip or bit of turbulence would pull her from it once more.

"We'll get checked in at the hotel and let you get some rest," he said. "I'm sure the next few days are going to involve a few late nights."

It was almost eleven by the time they reached the hotel, which wasn't very late by any means, but she'd had trouble sleeping the night before—an anxious mix of nerves and excitement keeping her awake. Between that and the flight, it seemed like the lack of sleep had finally caught up with her and she was hiding yawns behind her hand as they were greeted by the doorman and directed to the front desk.

Carlisle checked them in and then he escorted her towards the elevator with their bags. She noted vague things about the decor, some interested part of her mind cataloguing archways and exposed brick and a water feature. The rest of her just tried not to drift off to sleep as the elevator continued its way higher and higher.

Somewhere between floors nineteen and twenty-two, Carlisle directed her off the elevator and towards their room. Again she noted small things in the fuzzy recesses of her mind. However, they were quickly lost to a sleep that consumed her hard and fast as she changed, climbed into bed, and drifted off to the feel of Carlisle's fingers running through her hair.

That night she slept better than she had in a long time, content in the fact that her relationship with Carlisle had shifted slightly. There was an honest intensity that had developed between them, one that they had merely danced around before.

Each day together brought new and intricate layers to their relationship, but for a man who spent decades alone and a woman who had been trapped in an abusive marriage, communication was still something they struggled with. Their interactions were based very much on what they said, but also largely on what they didn't say. Esme was learning to read Carlisle—his thoughts and feelings and emotions—from the delicate shift in his brow, or the placement of his hands, or even in the way he touched her.

In a way, it wasn't much different from the way she had learned to read Charles. To navigate his moods without him saying a single word. But in other ways, it had been completely different. Before it had been anger and frustration and pain that she had been taught to feel. Now those things had been replaced with patience and kindness and gentle amusement. Foreign things that still felt strange to her, that still made her do a double take when he called her _love_ or uttered _darling_ after his words. It was like she was caught up in some sort of fantasy world. A man like Carlisle surely couldn't be real.

And yet he was.

She knew she wanted a lifetime with this man—and that very well might entail an immortal one. Though she also realized that they had really only known each other for a short while and had many lifetimes of history to learn about each other—especially in Carlisle's case. She didn't know where exactly they were headed now, or how long it might take to get there, but whatever direction they were moving in felt very right.

As daylight broke across the room, the quiet hum of movement filled her consciousness, pulling her out of sleep. Gentle traffic and the trill of birds fluttered just beyond the hotel window. With a great stretch, she yawned. Warm morning light spilled over the end of the bed and she rolled over in the feather-filled duvet to find a foam cup of steaming coffee on the bedside table.

"Oh, you are a glorious man," she said, inhaling the intoxicating scent. The smell alone was enough to convince her to drag herself out of the impossibly comfortable bed.

But suddenly said man was in the bed with her, leaning over to kiss her good morning. "Did you sleep well?"

"Mmm," she answered.

She kissed him again before she managed to form actual words and his hands found their way to the edge of her shirt, tickling the skin there until she squirmed. He grinned, rolling over to give her room.

"I did," she said, noting the shimmering gold of his eyes. "Did you hunt?"

"Yes, I thought it might be prudent before meeting your friends tonight."

"Were you running around the everglades?"

"Yes, it was quite thrilling, though I am not used to traversing quite this much marshland. I imagine next time I might not wear shoes. I see now why Alice insisted I bring so many pairs."

That was an interesting mental image. Esme considered that as she glanced around the room. She hadn't really gotten a good look at it last night as she'd pretty much fallen right into bed, not even bothering to roll the covers down. Clearly Carlisle had done that for her at some point over the night.

He stroked the side of her face. "You look quite content."

"I am," she sighed, stretching until she disappeared under the duvet again.

"Alice will be delighted to know you approve of the room."

Esme fought the bedspread off, sat up, and took a good look around. It wasn't really a room, but more of a suite, opening up to a formal sitting area. The furniture was oversized, but carved in intricate detail, mirrored in the abstract artwork that dotted the walls in splashes of earth tones. "This is very nice."

"I think you're just in love with the bed."

With a grin she flopped back down and Carlisle tucked the comforter around her before pulling her close. She was nestled against him now, her nose in the crook of his neck. His intoxicating scent mixed with the coffee aroma and she knew she could have drowned in that smell all day.

"You're not wrong," she said. "Though I am also in love with the man in the bed, so there are many advantages to this particular spot."

"So if this man suggested drinking your coffee on the balcony, would you be opposed? The view is spectacular."

"We have a balcony? That sounds lovely." She tried to squirm away, but he held her still.

"I wasn't finished saying good morning just yet."

The edge of her nose skimmed his jawline until her lips came up to meet his cheek. "Then by all means," she whispered, "continue."

He caught her lips as they moved across his skin and if her coffee was cold before they actually left the bed . . . well, that's what microwaves were for.

Some time later, after a shower and some breakfast, Esme gathered up her things. "So you'll be alright?" she said.

He nodded to his laptop. "I'll answer some emails."

She shook her head in faux exasperation. "Working on your vacation."

"I noted _you_ packed your marking."

She smirked. "Yes, well, I found myself very distracted before the break. Enjoy those emails."

"I will. Though I'll enjoy it much more tonight when you get back."

"Sarah thinks you're at the conference until late, so I'll just go with that and come get you around six?"

"Sounds reasonable, although I do have one request."

"Oh?"

He beckoned her closer with his finger and she caught on quickly. "To get you through the day, huh?"

The kiss she had intended on turned into a twenty-five minute delay before she actually left the hotel room. She smiled despite herself, leaving one person she loved very much to go meet another.

* * *

As Esme stood on the front porch of the tall suburban home, she could already hear the chaos inside and it made her beam.

There was a distinct screech that belonged to Kayla, Connor's incessant questioning, and Sarah's running commentary as she cleaned up her grubby kids after breakfast. Impatient, she knocked twice, before hitting the doorbell for good measure.

The door opened only moments later and she smiled down at the tiny face that looked up at her.

"Connor, what did I say about answering the door?" came Sarah's voice. "What if it was a stranger?"

"Is not—" he squealed, barrelling into her. "Auntie Esme!"

"You're early!" Sarah said, rushing down the hall.

"Surprise?" Esme said, holding out her hands.

Sarah beamed at her.

"Auntie Es!" Connor called, tugging on her arm. "See this tooth? This one. I loosed it."

"You did! I can't believe it."

Kayla just screeched, running down the hall on her chubby legs, eager to be part of the excitement. She carried her stuffed rabbit, the one which was now missing both ears and bits of its tail.

Esme snatched her up as soon as she was close enough. "She's getting so big," she gushed, hugging the toddler and pressing a flurry of kisses to her face before releasing her back to the floor.

Conner had wrapped himself around her leg and Kayla followed suit, thinking the game was rather fun.

Sarah just shook her head, blonde hair escaping from her loose pony tail. "I never get welcomed back like this." She wrapped Esme in a fierce hug, crushing the kids between them. "It's good to see you," she whispered.

"You too," Esme said.

"I really mean it. And you look good, Es. Really good. The toddlers wrapped around you really bring out your eyes." Sarah bent down to usher her children out of the doorway. "Let's give Auntie Esme her legs back so she can come inside, hmm?"

"Yay!" Connor chanted, skipping down the hall. Kayla babbled after him.

"They're going to be hyper for hours now, just so you know."

"I do," she grinned. "And I love it."

"Good, because when the exhaustion kills me, they're all yours."

"I don't think your mother would go for that."

"Oh, please, she's the one who suggested it. You know she takes her hearing aid out when she visits." Sarah crossed her arms and watched her children race back and forth across the living room, using the sofa cushions as a springboard. "If only it was that easy."

Esme leaned her head on Sarah's shoulder. "You know, when they're both teenagers you're going to miss these days."

"Ha! They're coming to spend an extended holiday with Auntie Esme until they both learn how to be normal humans again. I'm not dealing with any of that hormone junk. Besides, don't you deal with teenagers on the daily? You'll be an old pro at it by that time."

"Oh, most definitely," Esme joked. She dropped her purse by the couch and scooped Kayla up mid jump, cradling the girl in her arms again. "Look at you," she gushed, pressing kisses to Kayla's face.

She was a perfect mix of her parents—bold brown eyes from Alex, and Sarah's golden blonde hair. Connor, in some weird twist of genetics, had inherited the dark red hair and freckles belonging to one of Alex's uncles. He had beautiful blue eyes, though, and a wicked grin that was bound to drive the girls crazy in about ten years.

"So," Sarah said. "What's on the agenda for today?"

"Whatever you usually do. Carlisle's at the conference for most of the day, so I'm free."

"In that case," Sarah said, "it's just about pool time. I hope you brought your swim suit."

"Of course," Esme said as Kayla began to shriek happily. "Is is swim time?" she asked the toddler who grew more excited by the minute.

"Great," Sarah said, catching Connor mid-air as he made another leap for the sofa cushion. "Which one do you want to wrangle into a suit?"

* * *

 **A/N:** So, I think the visit with Sarah is going to be a couple chapters . . . they're not as fleshed out as I'd like them to be, more like a vignette style. (Apparently getting ready to move across the country really takes up a lot of time, lol). But it's been a while since I posted and I've had these drafts sitting on my computer for a while, so here you go :) A little bit of character development, a little bit of Sarah being a dork.


	26. Chapter 26

The morning came and went, fading into the afternoon before Sarah was able to finally drag the kids inside for a nap. They had spent most of the morning outside, splashing around in the pool, teaching Connor how to float (a skill that still seemed to allude him), and reapplying sunscreen.

Now with the kids both asleep on the sofa inside, Esme and Sarah enjoyed a rare quiet moment together and it felt very much like she'd never been parted from her best friend.

"Geez, Ohio, that delicate skin of yours is going to fry. Where have you been bunking down, Alaska?"

"Close enough," Esme said, rubbing sunscreen into her shoulders. The sun and the heat felt especially nice but she knew she'd pay for it later if she didn't reapply diligently. Sarah put the baby monitor on the table between their chairs and handed her a glass of iced tea.

"Remember those summers spent at your grandparents farm? You'd always tan so easily. We'd go back to school and everyone thought you had spent the summer somewhere exotic."

Esme laughed. "Until I wore shorts and revealed my lovely farmer's tan."

Sarah snorted. "I don't know why you wore your socks so high as a child."

"I think it was to avoid getting ticks running through the fields."

"Oh yeah," Sarah mumbled. "I think I blocked that part from my mind."

"You never did like bugs."

"Still don't. That's what I have kids for."

"So I've been ousted as your official spider squisher?"

Sarah snorted, but sat up and looked at her seriously. "Connor keeps trying to keep them. I'm afraid I'm going to clean his room one day and find them in jars under his bed."

"They'll all be dead if he's keeping them under his bed."

"You're missing the point here."

Esme laughed, laying back on her lawn chair and fitting a pair of Sarah's oversized sunglasses over her face. "God, I missed you."

"Ready to trade Carlisle in and move out here for a while?"

Esme bit her lip. Though she knew Sarah was joking (mostly), the idea made her squirm. Before, she never would have hesitated had everything with Charles been settled. She would have moved out here in a heartbeat. But now, there was Carlisle and that changed everything.

Sarah twisted in her chair. "Okay, woman, give me the details on this Doctor Hotpants situation. You have your serious face on."

Esme frowned. "I don't have a serious face."

"Yes you do. You have a very-serious-thoughts-are-occurring-in-my-head face and I want to know them all, so dish. We only have a week, so we gotta make it count."

Esme agreed with a nod of her head, taking a sip of her drink. She swallowed. "Did you put alcohol in this?"

"Obviously. It's the holidays, we're celebrating. I'd make you eggnog but it doesn't keep as well in the sun. Now stop making excuses and tell me again how you two met . . . and don't leave out anything."

* * *

Esme picked Carlisle up outside the hotel that evening. He stepped out from beneath the awning that covered the front door, slipping into the passenger seat as the last of the pink left the dusky grey sky.

Esme recognized his bag—the one he usually took to work. It wasn't packed the way it normally was (bulging with medical files) but still she wondered what use he had for it here.

"What's that for?" she asked as he placed it on the floor by his feet.

"I am a doctor," he said. "And I was supposedly at a conference today."

"You're very good at this," Esme murmured as the reality of a life playing props dawned on her. Alone and playing pretend in a world where he didn't quite fit in, it was a miracle that Carlisle was the person he was. That he was so innately good.

"I had a tip from Alice, truth be told."

"Oh?"

"Your guess is as good as mine." He reached over and pecked her on the cheek.

She flushed, but groaned quietly when he lingered.

His laugh sent a rush of his sweet scent across her face.

"Am I distracting you?" he whispered.

"You always do, but it's increasingly difficult to concentrate on driving."

"I'll stick to my side then, shall I?"

She gave him an apologetic smile. "That's probably for the best."

He simply chuckled and asked about her day, which she regaled for him in intricate detail as they drove back to Sarah's place.

* * *

Ringing the doorbell for the second time that day, Esme waited for the patter of little feet, but was surprised when Sarah pulled the door open. Sarah opened her mouth, most likely to introduce herself, but instead her jaw dropped and she stared at Carlisle so hard he might as well have been naked. Her eyes made an obvious trail from his face right down to his shoes.

"Wow," she muttered, "Doctor Hotpants doesn't even cover it."

Esme dropped her head into her hand.

"Well, come in, come in!" Sarah said, ushering them inside. "Welcome."

"Good job," Sarah whispered as she passed, giving Esme a very obvious wink.

Carlisle shot her a toothy grin over Sarah's shoulder. Clearly he was enjoying this. If he was any other human man she'd be completely mortified right now. But for some reason she felt like Carlisle understood some of Sarah's more endearing qualities . . . her lack of filter, for starters.

To Esme's delight, Sarah and Carlisle got on exceptionally. She didn't know how much was natural and how much was Carlisle reading the situation and applying everything she'd told him about Sarah, but even if it was, she appreciated how hard he was trying.

Even a little later when Alex—Sarah's husband—finally got home from work, he made fast friends with Carlisle and they parked it in front of the TV with Sarah muttering "men" under her breath.

Carlisle took the beer offered to him by Alex and they put the basketball game on.

"You a sports guy?"

Esme glanced between them, but Carlisle didn't even hesitate. "Baseball, actually."

"You play?"

Carlisle nodded, leaning back against the sofa and raising his beer to his lips in an impression that almost had Esme believing. "Oh, my whole family does. My kids love it."

The conversation turned to talk of players and stats and batting averages and Esme almost forgot that she'd been worried about how they would react to Carlisle.

"Where are the kids?" Esme asked Sarah. She'd only been here a day, but even she knew that the house was unusually quiet.

"I just put Kayla down before you got back. Connor gets to stay up a little longer, but he's currently having a pajama crisis. Apparently the Avengers are not good enough for company."

"I see," Esme said as Alex appeared with a beer for her as well.

After the game, Sarah convinced Alex to help her tackle the supper dishes and Esme leaned against Carlisle on the sofa. "Are you okay?" she wondered.

"Fine. They're very nice. I see why you and Sarah get on so well."

She smiled against his shoulder. "I'm sorry about earlier. Sarah can be very blunt."

"I mean, she was only undressing me with her eyes."

Esme chuckled as a pair of slippered feet appeared on the stairs. Connor stared through the banister rails at them, examining this new stranger in his house. He took a couple tentative steps down the stairs. Esme gave him her best smile and with a grin he raced across the living room and dove into the sofa cushion beside her, hiding his face from Carlisle.

Esme rubbed her hand gently down Connor's back until he popped his head up, studying Carlisle with wide blue eyes.

"You must be Connor," Carlisle said, holding out his hand.

Connor made a face. He was either thinking very hard or about to cry and for a moment Esme couldn't tell which, though she hoped it wasn't the latter. Then, to her relief, he broke into a smile.

"You da doctor?" he said, taking his hand, his tiny palm engulfed in Carlisle's. He didn't shy away from his cold skin as Esme had feared, but instead looked up at Carlisle with a growing curiosity.

"More drinks?" Sarah asked, popping back into the living room.

"Just water is fine," Esme said.

Sarah snorted. "As if. I went shopping for the good booze." She left them alone, with Connor still looking up at Carlisle, face pinched.

"I a doctor," he said finally, before making a beeline out of the room.

"I'll take that as a good sign?" Carlisle said, though he smiled. If he felt out of place, he certainly didn't show it.

Esme took his now free hand.

Connor returned a moment later with one of those plastic stethoscopes, racing up and wedging himself between them on the couch.

He stuffed it in Carlisle's lap. "I listen," he said.

"Ah, I see," Carlisle said, stringing the toy stethoscope around his neck. "A fine piece of equipment you have here, doctor."

Connor giggled, his cheeks round and puffed.

"You have too?"

Carlisle smiled patiently at the boy, a twinkle in his eye, like something had dawned on him.

"In fact, I do." He pointed to his bag. "Bring me that bag over there."

Connor rushed across the room and scooped up the black leather bag, stumbling back to the couch with it.

"Thank you, doctor," Carlisle said, snapping the bag open as Connor looked on eagerly. He pulled a long black stethoscope from the depths of the bag and Connor's eyes grew wide.

"I have dat!" he squealed.

"This one is very special," Carlisle said. "I'll show you. But first we need a patient." He smiled conspiratorially at Connor. Slowly he turned his head and Connor followed suit, throwing his arms up.

"Auntie Esme! You be da patient." He crawled towards her, looking back at Carlisle expectantly.

Following suit, Carlisle fixed his tie and cleared his throat, grinning at Esme before growing serious again. "Good day, Miss. I hear you're having some troubles. Me and my assistant here are just going to take a listen if that's alright."

"Oh, of course, doctor."

Carlisle put the ear pieces in and then with gentle fingers he laid the bell of the stethoscope against the bare skin revealed by the dip of her shirt, sliding it over ever so slowly. "Ah," he said. "There it is."

He pulled the ear pieces from his ears and handed them to Connor, helping him adjust them. It took only a moment for Connor to hear the constant _lub, dub_ and his tiny gasp gave away his excitement.

"I hear!" he shouted.

"What do you say, doctor? Will she make it?"

Connor scrunched up his face. "I dunno."

Esme laughed. "Oh, perfect. Just what I like to hear."

Carlisle smirked. "You could always ask for a second opinion."

"I might just do that," Esme said as Carlisle pulled the bell away. Connor took it from his hand and turned it on Carlisle next.

Esme's heart sped up because she knew very well there was nothing to hear there. And there hadn't been for a very long time.

"Now you turn," Connor said, fitting the bell of the stethoscope over Carlisle's chest.

Carlisle placed the stethoscope over his heart. "Hear that?" he said, rubbing the stethoscope in place before tapping the top of the bell gently. "Thump, thump. Thump, thump."

Connor shrieked. "Auntie, Esme! Listen." He stuffed the ear pieces in Esme's face and she laughed, trying to untangle them.

"Hear?" Connor asked, putting his chubby fist on her cheek.

"Thump, thump," Carlisle whispered. They shared a glance and Esme wondered why she had ever panicked. Carlisle gave her a knowing grin and pecked her on the lips.

"Ewwy, kissies," Connor grumbled.

"Ew, kisses, hmm?" Esme said, snatching the boy around the waist and blowing kisses into his neck. Connor giggled and shrieked until she released him.

"Oh, good. Play doctor," Sarah said, coming back into the room at the sound of Connor's laughter. "I'm aiming for Harvard, so I figure gotta start him young."

"I go Harard," Connor said, rolling his eyes in a very good impression of his mother.

"Yes you are," Sarah said, "but not tonight. Tonight you are going to bed. We'll work on Harvard next week."

"No," Connor whined, flopping down between Esme and Carlisle again. "I not tired."

"I think you are," Sarah sang. "But only tired boys get stories so . . ."

In a flash Connor was up, scrambling up the stairs on his hands and feet.

"Say goodnight," Sarah called.

Connor paused, sticking his face between the rails on the stairs. "Night!" he shouted before taking off again. His little feet thundered across the ceiling and Sarah winced, hands on her hips.

Just a moment more and the tiniest cry could be heard. Kayla had obviously been woken up.

"I got it," Alex said rushing up the stairs.

"Oh, good." Sarah reached over the couch, taking Esme by the hand. "Help me make drinks. Carlisle, man the TV."

Esme was led away into the kitchen, now tidied after a day of meal prep. There were an assortment of alcohol bottles on the counter, but Sarah didn't bother with them, instead pulling herself up to sit on the edge of the counter. "That man is beautiful."

Esme tucked herself onto a stool by the island and laughed. "Please control yourself. I don't want to scare him just yet."

"I will. I'm gunna host the shit out of your stay."

"Don't go to any extra trouble. Honestly."

"Esme, you listen to me. This isn't just a nice guy to hang around with for a while. This is the real deal, so I'm gunna make it happen. You can thank me later. What does this man like to eat? I know I tell you I hate cooking, but for you, I'll do it."

"Oh, he eats at the conference. You know, they always do those big fancy meals." She waved her hand. "He'll be fine."

Sarah nodded slowly. "The way he looks at you, Es." Her mouth curved into a soft smile, so unlike Sarah, that Esme really paused to listen. "It's like nothing exists past you."

Esme ducked her head, looking out into the yard, now highlighted with small garden lights, to keep from thinking too hard about what those words meant.

"He's really something."

"I know."

"I wish you told me how serious this was," Sarah said.

"What do you mean?"

"I thought he was a good thing for you, but I didn't think he was going to really mean _something_ , you know?"

"I guess . . ." Esme worried her lip, "I didn't either. Not at first. At first I was just . . ."

"Overwhelmed?"

"Yeah . . . a little." She smirked. "Or a lot."

"That's fair. After Charles, all of this must be a big adjustment."

"It was . . . it still is. But Carlisle's amazing."

"Well, it seems like it got serious really quickly. Normally I would warn you away from this kind of thing. I would tell you to take a step back and clear your head. And remind you that you're still going through a divorce. But I don't want to. I think he's really good for you. And he brought you here to me, so in my books, he's a keeper."

"I'm glad you like him."

"Like him? I'm sending both my kids home with him."

Esme snorted and Sarah gave her a look that said she wasn't kidding.

"Alright, enough with the heavy. Tell me about school. I want to hear more about this Jeremy guy."

"Why?"

"Because he sounds like he's trying to put the moves on you when you've already got a great guy out there. If that doesn't scream drama—"

Esme sighed and shook her head. "You sound just like Carlisle's kids."

"They sound smart."

"They are."

Alex walked in then, taking a couple more beers from the fridge and Esme wondered how Carlisle had disposed of his first one—perhaps he watered the plant by the front entrance. Alex gave Esme a glowing smile over his shoulder. "I really like this guy."

Sarah rolled her eyes and pushed him back towards the living room. "Go make a good impression then."

"And what do you think I've been doing?"

"Drinking and talking about sports. He's a doctor, babe, try to sound smart."

"Your faith in me is astounding."

"Oh, you know what I mean. I'm trying to seal the deal here."

"What deal? Esme, you know you can say no to her, right? It's good for her. Don't let her push you into anything." He smirked at his wife for a moment. "But for the record, Carlisle can visit anytime with you."

"Thanks, Alex. That means a lot."

He raised the beers and left.


	27. Chapter 27

As the evening wore on, Esme and Sarah joined the guys in the living room again. Esme nursed the beer she had earlier, no longer interested in the mostly empty bottle, but very intrigued when Carlisle switched their beers, so casually no one noticed as he held her now empty bottle.

"Carlisle, refill?" Alex asked during a commercial break.

"No thanks, I'm driving and we probably have to head out soon. I have an early morning and some keynotes to go over still." He looked at Esme. "Unless you want to stay longer. I'll come back and get you."

She was still appreciating how smoothly he lied, that she didn't even respond right away.

"No trouble," Sarah cut in. "I'll drop her off at the hotel later. We have girl things to talk about anyway."

Carlisle nodded, leaning in to press a kiss to her cheek. "That sounds exciting."

"Oh, you bet," Alex muttered and Sarah leaned across the sofa to swat at his shoulder.

"Call me anytime," Carlisle whispered to her. "I'll see you later."

Esme walked him out and when she returned, found Sarah lounging in the backyard on the lawn chairs from earlier in the day, no longer looking up at the sun, but the stars. On the small table between them now sat a wine bottle and glasses instead of a baby monitor.

"We haven't done this in a while," Esme commented, pulling up a chair next to Sarah and laying back to study the constellations.

"Remember that astronomy course we took in college?"

"Sort of."

"Ha, right. But I do remember what the Big Dipper looks like."

"I should hope so. We knew that one before we took that class."

Sarah was quiet for a long moment, then she rolled onto her side and Esme felt fifteen all over again. "Do you love him?"

"Yes."

"Love-love or fleeting-love?"

"Love-love," she answered without hesitation.

In reality she hadn't known Carlisle for all that long. Compared to some of her human relationships, Carlisle was just a blip on the map, hardly even worth a mention if it were to end here and now. But it didn't feel like that. Human relationships seemed so fickle and feeble when she now looked at them, especially compared to the love she'd witnessed between vampires. Love that lasted, that didn't grow weary with age or hardship.

And it was that love that made her so sure of her words.

* * *

She didn't know exactly what time it was when Sarah dropped her off at the hotel, though it was still dark. They'd talked for a long time. Even Alex had eventually gone up to bed and they just kept talking. For Esme, it was like being a teenager all over again. Back then, Sarah and her could have spent an entire night gossiping under the stars. Apparently some things never changed.

Now of course, they had more serious things to gossip about—family, real relationships—but that warm feeling was the same. Between that and the wine, Esme was feeling especially giddy as she rode the elevator to their floor.

Before she even reached the room, Carlisle had opened the door, alleviating her first dilemma of having to sort through her wallet for the room key. When she saw him, standing in the door in a navy blue polo and a pair of track pants, she threw herself into his arms, inhaling deeply.

His scent was tinged with spearmint.

"You showered," she said.

He chuckled, pulling her inside the room so he could shut the door. "I tend to do that on occasion," he spoke into her hair, seemingly taking his own lungful of air. "Someone has had a few more drinks tonight. Did Sarah break out the wine after I left?"

Esme giggled. "How'd you know?"

He held her closer. "I can smell it in your blood."

"Oh." Esme flushed, pulling away. "I'm sorry. Does that make it worse?"

Carlisle laughed. "Esme, I have been around my fair share of intoxicated people over my lifetime. New Years Eve in the emergency department is always a treat. It doesn't bother me. Really."

"You promise?"

"Yes."

"Okay then." She put her purse down on the dresser. "And I am not intoxicated."

"Your pupils say otherwise."

"Don't doctor me." Though she didn't feel out of control, there was definitely a buzz going on inside her. She stopped in front of the floor length mirror to regard her her pupils bigger?

"You're adorable," Carlisle said, taking her hand and pulling her towards him. He sat on the edge of the bed, looking up as she stood before him. His thumb hovered over the pulse at her wrist. "But you're going to be sick tomorrow if we don't get some water into you."

"Ugggh," Esme groaned, wrapping her arms around his neck. His hands snaked around her waist and she could feel his nose against the bottom of her rib cage. She ran her hands through his hair, letting the feathery blond locks slip through her fingers. "I'm not that drunk," she said.

Carlisle's voice rumbled against her skin, but she didn't hear what he said. Or maybe she just chose not to. Her heart was racing suddenly and the idea of crawling into his lap and kissing him seemed very appealing, so that's exactly what she did.

"Esme—" he said before her lips captured his.

His hands reached out to catch her, one going to the small of her back, the other wrapping beneath her thigh to pull her to him. His words sounded hesitant, but his actions said otherwise, so she kissed him again, hot against cold, creating something warm between them. Desire flared through her body, until every limb tingled with it, and she didn't think she'd ever get close enough to him.

This was one part of their relationship that Carlisle had yet to ask for, and truthfully, she didn't think he ever would. But he was a man, surely he wanted to. And gosh, was she ever confused. Her body said yes. Just the thought of him touching her made her feel like she might combust. But then her mind got involved and the waters grew muddy and her breathing became laboured and she wasn't sure what she wanted anymore. But right now this felt right, and the wine told her to feel instead of think.

Besides, she had enjoyed every minute of being with Carlisle so far. Who's to say that being intimate with him would be any different? In fact, like everything else about him, it would probably be wonderful. She just had to get over this last hurdle.

"Esme, stop. You're not thinking straight."

"I know." And that's partly why this seemed like such a good idea now. She wouldn't over think it. She could just do what felt good and not let memories of Charles continue to dictate her every move.

"Esme . . . Esme, wait. Please."

In a flash that left her dizzy, he slipped out from beneath her, leaving her sitting on the bed in a disorienting cloud of lust and booze. When she blinked, he was no longer in the room, but she could hear the water in the bathroom running.

She rubbed her hands along her face, straightening up when he appeared with a glass of water.

"Thank you." She sipped at the water, avoiding his gaze as long as she could.

"Are you okay?" he asked in a voice that was far too gentle and understanding and a part of her cracked at that. Maybe it was the wine. Maybe it was the conversations with Sarah. Maybe it was just time for this _particular_ conversation. Whatever it was, the tears gathered in her eyes and she felt them slip over her chin.

"Oh, love," he whispered as she hastily wiped her eyes with the corners of her sleeves.

"I'm sorry," she mumbled.

He caught her hand and pulled her to him. "For what?"

"Because this is a normal part of a relationship. I don't know why I have to feel so abnormal."

"Esme, there is nothing abnormal about you."

"There is though . . . I'm," she ran her fingers through her hair in frustration, "I'm broken in places that people can't see." Her chin started to quiver again. "There are parts of me that Charles took and I don't know how to get them back. I don't know if I . . . can."

A tear dripped down the side of her face and Carlisle brushed his thumb over her cheek to wipe it away.

"Is that why you wanted to . . . tonight? Because you thought it would be easier if you weren't quite in charge."

"I don't know, maybe." She looked at him through glassy eyes. "I want this, Carlisle. I want you, sometimes so much it scares me. And then I work myself up into a panic about it."

"What makes you panic?"

She shrugged. "Everything else seems so easy with us. I didn't want this to be the thing to ruin us."

"Esme, I have waited three centuries to find you. Nothing . . . and I mean nothing is going to ruin this. We can wait as long as you need." He cradled her head in his hands. "We can move as slow as you want." He smiled as he kissed her gently. "I don't know if you've heard, but my self-control is legendary."

She gave a watery laugh, drying her eyes.

* * *

Morning dawned with the smell of coffee, and though her stomach gave an empty kind of lurch, she hesitated getting out of bed. Even moving seemed like more effort than it was worth right now.

"Hello," a warm voice said and Esme caught Carlisle's eye.

She blinked, felt last night rush back in a wave of embarrassing memories, and buried her head beneath the pillow with a groan that tasted like last nights wine.

Carlisle chuckled as he dug her out.

"Was it as bad as I'm remembering?" she asked.

"What are you remembering?"

"I thought it would be a fantastic idea to sleep with you while I was drunk, realized that was the wrong idea, broke down into tears, and then you tucked me into bed like I was five years old."

He laid down so his head was next to hers. "To be fair, you did have a lot of wine."

She tucked her head into his chest and huffed.

"Esme, there's nothing to be embarrassed about."

"I'm not embarrassed, I'm mortified."

"There's no need, love. These are the kinds of things I want you to be able to talk to me about."

"You're right," she said, fiddling with the buttons on the front of his shirt.

"You know, you're not the only one with mixed feelings."

Her eyes were wide when she caught his.

"I know our reasons are very different, but the thought of being with you terrifies me sometimes."

"Why?"

"Because I do want you," he ran his hand over her waist and swallowed, "very much. But to be with you like this is terribly dangerous. You're very important to me, and very breakable, so I have to figure out how to love you without hurting you."

"You wouldn't hurt me," she argued. Carlisle was the most gentle and patient person she'd ever met.

"Not on purpose, love. Never. But the reality is that this body," he pressed his hand against her hip, "is terribly delicate and I have to work hard every day to remember that. The fact that I work so closely with humans has made it easier to be so close to you, but the more comfortable we become with each other, the harder I have to work not to forget myself. If I did, for even a second, and hurt you, I would never forgive myself."

"I never thought about it like that." She smiled gently. "I guess we both have some reservations."

"It doesn't change how I feel about you, though, and I very much enjoy getting to know you like this, even if we work a little slower."

They kissed for a few minutes, but something struck her. Would they ever be able to be together? If she was human and he was a vampire, would they ever be able to love each other like that? But if she wanted a forever with him, didn't that mean one day she would be like him? And then the temperature of their skin and his unparalleled strength and speed wouldn't seem like such obstacles.

* * *

In the following days, Esme had settled into a kind of routine that involved spending most of the day with Sarah and the kids, then spending the evenings with Carlisle. Each day had been so utterly perfect so far, she didn't know how she was possibly supposed to go back to reality.

"The sun looks good on you," Carlisle said, bending over to kiss her shoulder one morning.

"I do miss it sometimes," she confessed.

She'd been worried about burning, but truth be told, she'd developed a nice base tan after spending most of the last week outside with Sarah and the kids during the day. The strange thing about celebrating the holidays in Florida was that in between Christmas festivities you did things like swim and go to the beach and eat ice cream.

Esme didn't think she'd ever get used to it and, though she'd never admit it out loud, she was missing the snow that now covered Forks according to the last pictures Alice had texted her.

"Forks isn't exactly known for its sun," Carlisle sighed.

"No, but it is known for the elusive Cullen's who don't particularly like the sun but happen to be quite extraordinary anyway."

"Is that so?"

"Cross my heart," Esme mumbled as Carlisle's kiss travelled from her shoulder, past her tank top and up the side of her neck. "I was supposed to leave already. Stop distracting me."

His lips curled against her skin, a sneaky grin spreading across his face. "Is that why your phone's been buzzing?"

"Carlisle—"

He pressed his lips behind her ear and she felt her knees grow weak. This was entirely unfair.

"I need to check my phone," she gasped, grabbing onto the hand that had wrapped around her waist. "We're supposed to be taking the kids to the aquarium today."

"Actually," Carlisle said. "Change of plans. It's supposed to thunderstorm stupendously today, so _you and I_ are taking Connor to the aquarium and Sarah is having a day at home with just Kayla to relax and recuperate from the holiday madness. Don't worry, we worked everything out."

"Oh," Esme sobered a bit, "so you and Sarah are texting now?"

"Yes, she's both ogled me and threatened to dismember me on your behalf in the last week, so I think we've reached that level of friendship." He pushed her hair behind her ear. "How about it? Spend the day with me and an adorable child?"

"How could I say no to that?"

"I've made it impossible." He kissed her forehead. "Now find the umbrellas or you're going to get wet. I'm sure Alice has packed some."

* * *

By early-evening, Connor had run himself ragged in the giant aquarium, pressing his face into the glass walls of every tank. The fish were thoroughly traumatized now and Esme had so many pictures on her phone, she was going to run out of memory.

Quite of few of them were of Carlisle, who was presently carrying a sleeping Connor. He had passed out, his head on Carlisle's shoulder, and Esme couldn't resist. Connor's arms draped loosely around Carlisle's neck, trusting him so easily, and she supposed that was just children for you.

Something stirred in her gut at the image. It was a bitter sweet feeling, seeing how easily Carlisle took to the role, while also knowing that they could never have it . . . not together.

And though she'd come to accept the fact that she would never have biological children long before she met Carlisle, she couldn't help the images that formed in her head of tiny faces with blonde hair.

In another life, perhaps it would have been possible. And as extraordinary as it would be to have Carlisle's children, having him was miracle on its own. Even just knowing that she would want to have children and raise a family with him him was enough.

Though his family and being able to teach weren't exactly the same things, it brought her great joy and was so much more than she ever thought she'd get to have. So, she supposed she was the lucky one after all.

Carlisle nodded to the giant tank full of colourful saltwater fish, shifting Connor in his arms so he could take her hand. "You really like this exhibit. We've come back to it several times."

"It's the most beautiful one in here."

"I think Connor would argue for the sharks."

"Well, we'll just have to agree to disagree, especially since little boys are fascinated by things with lots of teeth."

Carlisle chuckled, studying the rainbow of fish before them. "One day I will take you somewhere this beautiful, where you can swim and explore and enjoy the sun with me without threat of someone seeing what I am."

Esme squeezed his hand. They both had dreams, and as impossible as it had seemed, Esme's had come true finding him and his family. So even though a vampire enjoying the sunlight sounded improbable, she supposed nothing was impossible.

* * *

Later, they drove back to Sarah's place with a still sleeping Connor. Esme knocked on the front door while Carlisle carefully extricated him from the car seat.

Sarah opened the door with a wide smile. "I see you both survived."

"We had a great time," Esme said, turning as Carlisle came up the porch behind her.

Connor was passed out on his shoulder again, hair stuck up in varying directions and the stuffed manta ray toy he picked out in the gift shop tucked under his arm.

"Now this is exactly how I like my deliveries," Sarah said, reaching out to take Connor from Carlisle. "Alex," she whispered, "take note. I no longer want flowers, but random people dropping off already sleeping children."

They continued the shuffle as Alex came up and scooped Connor out of Sarah's arms with a nod to them both before he slipped upstairs to put his son to bed.

"He'll probably sleep for days," Esme said.

"Thanks, I don't know why, but he loves that place. I don't know how many times one person can look at fish, but he's going for a world record." Sarah tilted her head. "I guess it could be worse. He could be obsessed with eating dirt or something."

Esme laughed and behind her Carlisle tucked his arm around her waist.

"You two love birds want to stay a while?" Sarah asked, leaning against the door with a knowing look on her face.

"I think we're just gonna go for a walk," Esme said, "and then probably call it a night."

"No worries. I understand. Escape while you can." Sarah winked. "I'll see you tomorrow?"

"Of course. I promised Connor we'd practice floating in the pool."

* * *

They parked the car back at the hotel and, true to her word, they wandered the green space that was next to it. A sloping trail led through a public garden that had been expertly maintained with varying wild flowers and planted displays. They walked in the darkness, following the sidewalk and the patches of light left by the streetlamps. Carlisle could have easily moved through the black night, but it was for her benefit that they stuck to the light.

"Today was fun," Esme said, squeezing his hand.

"The energy contained inside children always amazes me."

"I think it amazes everyone," Esme said. "Parents especially."

"They're very happy children."

"I always knew Sarah would be a great mom. She likes to pretend she's in way over her head, but she always enjoyed multitasking. Anything else would make her bored."

"Well, she'll certainly never be bored with those two."

Esme hoped not. She hoped that Connor and Kayla brought Sarah and Alex years of happiness, even if she might not be around to see it.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, drifting closer. In the distance a play structure took form and they paused by the swing-set that was built along the edge of the sand box.

Esme sat on the swing and Carlisle took up the spot behind her to push her gently. The sensation was freeing and the rush sent her back to when she was a little girl. There had been a tire swing on her grandparents property and she'd spent hours on it. Hours soaring towards the birds and imagining what it might be like to fly. Funny how two of the happiest times in her life had become entwined. The moment was reminiscent of that night at the gala that they spent dancing together. And if this man brought her moments like this, how was she ever supposed to let him go for any reason?

"If you could have anything you wanted right now, what would you ask for?" he said suddenly.

She frowned as the night rushed by her. "Why are you asking?"

"I'm just curious and it _is_ Christmas."

"I already have everything I could possibly want," Esme said. The swing slowed to a stop and she put her feet on the ground.

Carlisle came to stand in front of her. "I don't mean trivial things like plane tickets."

She smirked, standing so that they were closer in height. "You mean the kind of thing that money can't buy?"

"Exactly."

"I . . ." She was about to say that she didn't know, that she'd have to think about it, but staring at the stars reflected in his eyes she knew. In her heart of hearts, she knew what she wanted most in the world was him. Always. And if she wanted to keep him for forever, than she had to become like him. So, she supposed, what she really wanted was to be a vampire.

The only problem was she wasn't ready.

Of course she was ready to be with Carlisle, to change for him, but she wasn't ready to leave certain things behind just yet: teaching, Sarah and the kids, Billy and Jacob. How was she supposed to say goodbye to these other things that she loved. She supposed a love like what she felt for Carlisle required some sort of sacrifice and she would gladly give it all up for him, but . . . she just needed a little longer.

A little more time to set her affairs in order. To close one chapter of her life before starting a new one. The time was close, though. Meeting Carlisle had already set that in motion. Now she just had to finish it.

"Have I stumped you?" he asked with a crooked smile. He teased her, but with gentle words that were still curious and questioning.

"I do have an answer," she admitted, "but . . . I'm not ready to tell you just yet."

He had a studious look on his face, like he was trying to figure her out.

"What about you?" she asked to distract him.

"Hmm?"

"If you could have anything, what would you ask for?"

He stared at her for a long moment, a kind smile on his face. She wasn't fooled though.

There was a sadness in his eyes and for the smallest fraction of a moment Esme knew she could alleviate it and all the other doubts he had ever had about them. She knew what he wanted most in the world and because of that she knew he'd never ask her for it. Their deepest desires were one in the same.

He wanted her to be a vampire.

He wanted a forever with her.

He wanted to never have to say goodbye.

"You are more than I could have ever asked for," he said, filling up the silence between them. "I love you."

"I love you, too." She let her eyes close as he kissed her forehead. "I _am_ going to ask you for something," she hesitated, " . . . soon."

He swallowed hard, his eyes like flames in the darkness. "Anything," he whispered fiercely. "Ask and it's yours."

He kissed her under the stars then, and it tasted like hope.

* * *

In total, they spent nine days with Sarah and her family. It was longer than Esme had anticipated, but when it came time to leave she realized that she just wasn't ready. Sarah was her family—the only part of her past that she really had left—and being away from her, keeping her life so veiled and secret and shadowed, had been harder than she'd let on.

Charles had created a divide between them, one that phone calls alone couldn't fix, so when Carlisle asked if she wanted to stay a few extra days, she'd burst into a strange bout of tears in the hotel room.

Having him and Sarah in the same place at the same time was almost too good to be true and she kept expecting to be ripped from the dream, only it never happened. It only got better.

And when Carlisle called the airport to change their flights and extend their stay a few days, Esme felt like she might just burst from happiness.

After spending extra time snuggling the kids and endless hours chatting with Sarah, she and Carlisle finally returned to Forks to spend the rest of the winter break with his family. In her opinion, it had been the most perfect holiday she'd ever had.


	28. Chapter 28

As the holidays came to an end, Esme found herself consumed by anxious students preparing to write final semester exams, with the exception of the Cullen's, of course. When you had sat through the same sort of high school curriculum multiple times over, there were only so many new things you could learn. They took their studies very seriously in public, however, and diligently took notes during all of her review classes. Still, the vibe in the Cullen household was vastly different than the one at school.

In many ways, it was a relief to leave the mounting stress of Forks High behind as she pulled into the Cullen driveway long after she usually did. Her seniors were vying for marks, all of them eagerly awaiting university and college application results, and she'd been swamped marking a bunch of extra credit essays that came floating across her desk in the last week. Obviously, some of them had been very busy over the holidays.

When she stopped in front of the massive Cullen garage that night, she looked up at the house, though her feet refused to carry her inside.

She still had so much marking to do and she knew if she went in there it wouldn't get done—she just enjoyed their company far too much. Guilt consumed her as she considered just driving across town to her apartment. She hadn't been there very much lately, only to swap out clothing and such, but it really was one of the only places she could escape and focus. And right now she needed to focus.

And yet, she'd spent so little time with the other Cullen's over the holidays because Carlisle had extended their stay in Florida, that she now felt as though she had to make it up to them. She supposed when you were immortal time seemed less fleeting and it didn't cause the same kind of concern or stress as it did for humans. So that was her burden to bear—seeing as she was the human in this equation.

Esme sighed, turning the key in the ignition. She really did love it here, but she also had a job to do, and it had started to spit icy raindrops all over the windshield. It was probably best to get home now and avoid the slippery roads later.

Suddenly the passenger door opened and closed, bringing with it a gust of frigid winter wind.

"Edward!" she gasped, clutching at her chest.

"Bella made you dinner," he said with an apologetic shrug, holding up a casserole dish. His eyes narrowed as he studied her. "You look exhausted."

She covered a yawn as he said it. There was no point in trying to hide it. His senses were very keen and she _was_ exhausted—mostly mentally, but that was enough to do her in. "It'll be better after this push. The new term will start and I won't be so busy."

"You really don't have to worry," he said gently. "You have nothing to prove or make up for. We're just glad that you and Carlisle are so happy." He tucked the tray beneath the passenger seat. "We know you have responsibilities and far less time to complete them." He grinned. "Go home if it's easier. I'll explain to Carlisle when he gets in from the hospital."

She frowned as she thought about the disappointed look that would slip across his face when she wasn't sitting in the kitchen, perched on a stool with her work, waiting to greet him.

"He'll understand," Edward assured her . . . then he smirked. "Though I won't be able to hold him off forever. You've maybe got a few hours. After that, he'll come to see you no matter what I say. Take advantage of the . . . distraction free time."

"Thank you," she said sincerely.

"Anytime. Now you better go. At this rate, you'll make it home before the weather turns too terrible." He was gone in an instant and Esme took his advice, pulling into her building just before the sky let loose.

The rest of the week passed slowly and as it drew to a close, Esme was looking forward to the weekend. Friday brought a new wave of essays, but with two days to catch up, Esme decided to take a break and have a lazy evening—which meant she got to spend it at the Cullen's, tucked into Carlisle's arms as Alice and Edward argued over movie options.

"How about next Friday we go out?" Carlisle whispered in her ear as his children continued to bicker—if you could even call it that with one of them reading the future and the other rejecting movie options right out of her thoughts.

"I have to supervise at the dance next Friday."

"You could always take a date," Alice suggested, clearly much more intrigued by their conversation than her movie decision.

"I have a surgery," Carlisle confessed, though he looked quite sorry to miss the opportunity.

"It's fine, really," Esme promised. "No adult actually wants to go to these things."

"You know," Alice said, looking fondly at Jasper, "we haven't actually gone to a dance since the last time Bella was in high school."

"Oh, please no," Emmett said. He looked across the room to his wife who tipped her head thoughtfully.

Alice clapped her hands together and Jasper shook his head in good-humour. "Should I go dust off my suit?"

"Absolutely not." Alice grabbed his hand and hauled him to his feet. "We're going shopping."

They disappeared from the room in a flash and Edward winced, looking around for Bella. "We better go too or you'll be wearing something with an inordinate amount of frills."

Bella shook her head, following Edward out of the room after Rosalie and Emmett.

"I guess the movie is cancelled," Carlisle said with a chuckle.

Esme reached up and pulled his face to hers. "All the better."

"If you two are going to get hot and heavy you should probably relocate. If I have to parade up and down the stairs for the next hour, so Alice can decide if my socks match my tie, then I'm putting on the game!" Emmett called from the second floor.

Esme snickered into the front of Carlisle's shirt.

"I'm sorry," Carlisle sighed, "he can be very crude."

"He wouldn't be Emmett if he wasn't."

"Shall we?" Carlisle asked.

She wrapped her arms around his neck and before she'd even taken her next breath, he had whisked them up to his bedroom. She bounced gently as he deposited her in the center of his large bed.

He leaned over her then, pressing a kiss to the side of her face before burying his nose in her hair. "I've missed you this week."

"I missed you, too." She gasped as his cold fingers traced the bare skin of her waist beneath her shirt.  
He stopped suddenly, looking up at the door.

"What is it?"

"Your phone," Carlisle said as he stood and crossed the room. He looked at her, quirking an eyebrow as he swung the door open.

Alice stood in the hall, a knowing grin on her face as she passed the phone to Carlisle. "It's Sarah," she said before disappearing. Esme could almost hear the words _behave you two_ echoing in her wake. Oh, Sarah would really like Alice.

Esme reached for the phone and sure enough, Sarah's beaming face filled the screen. "Hello?" she said as Carlisle stretched out on the bed beside her.

"Hi. It's me, obviously. Before we get distracted, I just have to tell you that the kids are on strike and refuse to eat anything until you come back. I mean, it's not like Connor ever really ate his vegetables, but he pushed his pizza across the table last night." Sarah paused and took a breath. "Pizza, Es! It's the food of the gods. If I can't get him to eat that, to hell with the carrots and broccoli."

Esme laughed at the onslaught of information and the speed at which Sarah delivered it, but a fleeting sadness filled her chest. She already missed them all terribly. She'd been exceptionally spoiled over the break.

She looked up to see Carlisle watching her closely and took a moment to consider her response. This man had gone out of his way to give her everything she could have possibly wanted for Christmas, and she didn't want him to feel like he was keeping her from the people she loved. Because that wasn't it at all. She'd been ready to come home again by the end of it—back to Forks and her life here.

"Put him on the phone," Esme said.

"Are you going to work some magic?"

"I'll do my best."

There was a scuffle and errant beeping as stubby fingers hit the screen, then Connor said hello. She spoke to him for five minutes—about the attention span of a child—and by the end of it, he was giggling.

He talked of doctor Carlisle and floating in the pool and of all the new toys he'd gotten for Christmas. She reminded him to be a good boy for his mom and to help out with his sister.

When she hung up, her heart wasn't as heavy.

"You made quite the impression," she said, crawling across the bed to tuck herself into Carlisle's side.

He stroked her arm with the tips of his fingers and it made her shiver delightfully all over. "I know you miss them," he said diplomatically, looking intently at the ceiling. "You know, summer vacation isn't that far away."

"I know, but it would be far too sunny then. We were lucky the weather cooperated this time."

"I could spend more time in the hotel."

"No," she said gently, pushing his stray blond hair off his forehead and sitting up to catch his eye. "I was thinking, maybe . . . Sarah could come down to Forks next time."

"You're going to tell her?"

"I think so. I mean, this thing with Charles might take months to settle." She felt him tense slightly but pushed on. "I can't keep hiding . . . I don't want to. Besides, I feel safe here."

"You are safe here," Carlisle assured her. "Always."

"Then there's no reason to keep it from them anymore."

"You're remarkable, you know that right?"

Her eyes fluttered closed as his lips grazed her forehead. It was a long time before they spoke again and that was only because Emmett had barged into the room to show off his suit and the neon orange tie that he'd kept hidden from Alice since the early eighties.

Esme burst into laughter as Emmett struck a pose and decided that with most of the Cullen's in attendance, chaperoning the dance on her Friday night wouldn't be that bad.

* * *

The theme for the dance was apparently 'A Night in Vegas' and Esme was pleased that the little black dress Alice had picked out for her let her blend easily into the crowd. Esme had already decided not to look too closely at anything in terms of this whole chaperoning thing. As long as no one got hurt and nothing illegal was happening, she'd decided what happened in 'Vegas' could stay in Vegas. She would let the other chaperones fuss over silly things like how the kids danced. She could remember being a teenager, and though some of the students seemed to be fused together at the hips on the dance floor, it really wasn't the end of the world.

The red-faced parent chaperones might think otherwise, but Esme busied herself by not standing in any one place for too long. Out of sight, out of mind, right? She walked the perimeter of the gym, conscious of Jeremy hovering on the other side of the room. He wore a shirt and tie and his fleeting glances in her direction had not gone unnoticed. Though that was another thing Esme was going to politely ignore tonight.

Besides, Edward was casting him enough wary glances for the both of them.

She chuckled as Emmett and Rosalie came waltzing out of the crowd only to disappear back into it. That boy really was a ham. As she rounded the next corner, a group of students quickly shuffled away while others waved. But one face in the crowd made her stop.

Jacob?" she said, surprised. The boy slipped through the teenagers towards her, a wide grin splitting his face. "What are you doing here?"

"Dancing, obviously," he joked. "I mean, these dances always crush the ones at La Push high school. We had to come."

"We? So you're crashing it?"

"You could say that." He glanced across the crowd where Esme could see Quil, Embry, and a younger boy she'd never met during any of her trips to the reservation.

"That's Seth," Jacob said with a sigh. "We kind of got stuck with babysitting duty." He regarded Esme with a tilted head. "You're not going to boot us out, are you?"

Esme held a finger up to her lips. "Not if I never saw you."

"Excellent."

"Don't make me _need_ to see you."

"Understood. I'll still see you next week right? We have a major unit test in English coming up."

"Of course. I'll be there."

"Awesome." With a pleased grin, he snuck back off into the crowd.

"Doesn't that go against the chaperone code of ethics?"

Esme turned on her heel, a happy thrill shooting through her at the sound.

"Oh," she gasped, watching Carlisle step smoothly through the crowd, adjusting his already perfect tie. He almost went unnoticed in the darkened gym, which was a feat in itself. "I thought you had to work?"

"I might have called in a few favours." He took her hand and placed his other on her hip, pulling her onto the floor to the sway of the music. "You look beautiful."

"I'm supposed to be watching the floor."

"You are," he whispered, "just from a better position."

"The only thing I'm going to be looking at is you."

"Funny, that's just what I was going to say."

He twirled her around the floor then, slipping them seamlessly into the crowd. As the night wore on, the lights overhead dimmed, the music slowed, and the dancing became more intimate. Carlisle pressed his hand to the small of her back, pulling her close, and for a few moments, she forgot about the hundreds of students milling about around them.

When she came back to reality, she caught sight of Alice, beaming at her from across the gym. Carlisle pressed his lips close to her ear, his cheek brushing hers. "Are you happy?"

"Very happy," she whispered. "I could dance with you forever."

He shifted their step as the music changed, swaying in a slow square. "Then it makes tonight especially worthwhile."

He said it with a smile, gentle and sure and alluring, but there was a sadness beneath his tone. Maybe it was because she listened to him so intently that she heard it. Maybe he didn't even realize it was there. But he said it as if he suspected their time together was still limited by the constraints of her human life. Still numbered by the remaining years she had.

And she supposed, as far as he was concerned, it still was. He had no idea how long she'd been toying with the idea of becoming a vampire. It was something he desperately wanted from her but would never ask. His children knew or suspected, but they'd been gracious enough to let her work through this decision on her own. If she hadn't been sure before, Florida had really cemented it for her—how she couldn't possibly live knowing that one day she'd have to let Carlisle go.

She knew she was going to ask him, she just hadn't known when or how. Not when she still had so many loose ends to tie up—Charles, and school, and Sarah, and everything else that would be required for her to just disappear for a while. But maybe that didn't matter. In fact, maybe telling him was the first step in tying up those loose ends. To putting a plan in place. She'd spent so much time doing everything on her own, that now she had to learn to ask for help. If she was going to build a life with Carlisle—one that led to forever—then she was going to have to trust him to help her with these sorts of things.

So why wait any longer?

She knew she wanted this.

Of that she was certain.

A life with Carlisle was the one part of her future that made sense. Now she just had to set it in stone.

She stopped suddenly, stumbling on her own feet. Carlisle caught her automatically, a curious brow raised as she took his hand and led him off the dance floor, hurrying through pockets of students until they reached the hallway. When they did finally reach it, she didn't stop, just kept pulling him. She didn't want anyone to overhear—for obvious reasons—but more than that, she wanted the privacy to ask this of him without his entire family grinning on the sidelines.

He deserved that. One moment before forever that was entirely theirs.

"Esme?" he said, catching up to her easily. She refused to let go of his hand and led him to the first exit, pulling him along outside. "Is everything okay?"

"I have to talk to you," she muttered as a group of students hanging around in the parking lot glanced their way. She doubled back and led him around the back of the school instead. It was cold—she could see her breath—but the snowfall had disappeared with a rain earlier, so she clung to Carlisle now, knowing he would catch her before she could slip.

And that was the truth of what she had known for a while now.

Yes, she hadn't really known Carlisle for that long, but that didn't matter. He was her forever. He was the one who had entered into her life when it was all spiralling out of control, and even now, when it wasn't quite settled, she knew he would still be there to catch her—to lead her safely through it all.

She stopped finally on a walking path about halfway across the football field. She could see the lights in the school windows, but couldn't make out the people passing, so she knew they were far enough away for any prying humans not to be able to see them.

The cold bit into her skin, but she braved it and the chatter that threatened her jaw. Another settling breath, and a puff of air escaped.

Esme watched it disappear upwards, taking note of the blanket of stars that shone above them.

"Esme, love, you're going to freeze," Carlisle said. "Let's go inside. I'm sure there's somewhere we can talk."

"No, wait," she said. She squeezed his hands. "Please."

He shrugged out of his suit jacket in response, throwing it over her shoulders. He rubbed his hands up and down her arms, looking concerned. "Is there something on your mind?"

"You," she said truthfully. "It's always you." She leaned against him, wrapping her arms around him.

"I think about you too, you know." He chuckled, unsure of her intentions and probably thinking she was rather foolish to have dragged herself out here just to tell him that. "Now can I take you inside?"

He pulled her closer by the seams of his own jacket and blew a hot breath against her neck. The fact that it was warm told her just how cold she was.

"Wait," she said almost breathlessly. "I wasn't finished. And I have to say it before you distract me with that—"

"With what?" he teased.

She wrapped her fingers in his shirt, pulling him down for a chaste kiss. "You know very well what," she mumbled against his lips.

She heard him swallow before getting serious once more: "Please let me take you where it's warm. We're almost the same temperature," he joked.

"First there's something I have to ask you." She took both his hands from where they rested on her hips and held them between them.

He became very still then, and despite not needing to breathe, it was very evident that he was indeed holding his breath.

"I know you'll never ask it of me," she began, "because you don't want to steal my human life when I am perfectly healthy, so I am going to ask it of you. You told me once that you'd give me anything, all I had to do was ask. So I'm asking, Carlisle. I want a forever with you. I want centuries together, with you and this wonderful family you have created."

He didn't move, just kept staring at her with wide, unblinking eyes. He was like a drowning man that had finally spotted a passing ship.

When he finally found his voice again, he said only one word. "Ask."

She knew she had to say it, had to ask him to make her the very thing that he couldn't bear to force onto her. So she did. "I want you to make me a vampire."

"Truly?"

She nodded as he grasped her face, pressing a lingering kiss to her forehead.

"And you understand what you're asking for?" he said. "What you're giving up?"

"I do. And it doesn't scare me. I spent so much of my life being afraid to live. But I've never felt truly free until I found you. Now I can't let that feeling go."

He shuddered in her arms and something like a sob erupted from his chest. She knew this had been weighing heavily on him—the thought that he might one day lose her to mortality.

"I need some time, though," she said. "To tie up loose ends. To say goodbye to people I might not be able to see for a while or maybe ever again. I'd very much like to finish out the school year. I know teaching is something that will have to be put on hold for my immediate future once I'm changed. At least until I can control myself the way you all do."

"Of course," Carlisle said. "Anything you need."

"Just a little longer then."

* * *

"Is it over?" Carlisle asked, spotting the rest of the Cullen's hanging out just outside the gym. The lights were on inside and there were various streamers and balloons scattered around the gymnasium floor. Part of Esme was glad she wasn't on clean up duty.

When she looked back at the group, she realized they were all watching Carlisle with varying degrees of curiosity. Even she couldn't ignore the skip in his step. He was practically radiating with glee.

Alice gave them a knowing look, but Edward cut in: "Some kid spiked the punch and it got shut down pretty quickly."

"Oh dear."

"It's fine. Too dark in there to make out who anyone is, so most of the kids already took off."

"Your lips are blue," Alice said suddenly. "How long were you outside?" She looked at Carlisle like he hadn't noticed she'd been freezing.

"Long enough," Esme said. Her nose already tickled as she started to thaw out.

"You know," Emmett said. "If you wanted some privacy, there's a janitor's closet."

"I didn't need that image," Edward muttered.

"Oh please, like you haven't already seen it in my head."

"I didn't need it _again_."

"So?" Alice asked, ignoring Edward and looking from Carlisle to Esme. "Is it official?"

It was clear by the look on everyone's face that Alice had clued them in as to why she and Carlisle had suddenly disappeared. Esme squeezed Carlisle's hand. "It is."

Alice clapped, rushing over to give her a hug. "I'm so happy for you."

"Thank you, Alice."

"Have you set a date yet?" Bella asked.

Esme glanced at Carlisle. "End of summer. After Sarah visits, I think."

He looked at her, like she was the only thing in his world at that moment and every moment. "Sounds perfect."


	29. Chapter 29

An odd streak of winter sun lit the usually misty roads in Forks, sending the teenagers at Forks high school outside to enjoy the chilly lunchtime light for the second day in a row, while the Cullen's, thanks to Alice's foresight, sought shelter indoors.

Esme had found herself particularly lonely without the familiar faces lighting up her classrooms as the Cullen's enjoyed some conveniently timed "winter camping with their father". Although this was the story that circled through the morning emails as she took attendance, there was a constant stream of text messages to her phone to say otherwise, yet she kept those to herself.

And even though they were only a short drive away, Esme found herself suddenly tied up with work and other engagements again, making the divide feel even more pronounced. She never thought she'd be grateful for the endless grey skies that seemed to cover Forks, but when it sent the people she loved most into hiding, she really couldn't say she cared for the sun all that much.

 _At least she had Jacob and his friends to take her mind off it_ , she thought as she drove the slick streets to the reservation later that day. _They were always good company and had been working very hard as of late_.

It seemed, to Esme, as though a fire had been lit under Jacob lately. Something had turned him from the struggling boy she'd met at the beginning of the year, to a young man who actually chased success.

If there was any greater feeling as a teacher, surely this was close.

Esme pulled down the long, twisting lane to the Black's residence and stopped next to the weathered garage. As soon as she cut the engine, Jacob opened the front door and waved. She could see Quil and Embry roughhousing behind him, though Jacob took up much of the doorway himself. In ways, they reminded her very much of Emmett. There was an ease in the brotherly relationship they shared, and a warm extension of that relationship to the people they brought into their inner circle. She counted herself lucky to belong to it.

"Hey, Esme!" Jacob called. "Dad's out, but he'll be back in a bit. He said to call him if we're being terrors. Though Rachel's still home, so it's not like we can run wild."

"After all this time, I think I can manage," Esme said, kicking the slush off her boots as she slipped by Jacob. He was in one of his favoured muscle shirts again. "Aren't you cold?"

"Nah. I think dad has the heat cranked. You know . . . old people get cold quicker than us young ones." He shot her a playful look.

"Watch it, young man."

"Yeah, Jake, don't offend the one person who might mean the difference between you graduating with us and not."

Jacob launched himself at Embry in a full body tackle and they both crashed into the couch, sending it rocketing against the wall. Months ago, Esme might have been startled. Now though, between the boys here and the Cullen boys, she'd become more accustomed to young men trying to pummel each other into dust.

"When you're finished, would you kindly relocate to the kitchen?"

"Sure thing," Jacob said, pulling Embry along in a headlock. "We're finished."

Embry tapped his elbow twice and Jacob released him, plopping down at the kitchen table. Esme took her usual seat and unpacked some writing aids for the boys.

"So, the dance got cleared out pretty quickly," Jacob said, eyeing her intently.

"Yes, it did. You wouldn't happen to know anything about that, would you?"

"No way," Jacob promised. "Scout's honour."

"Don't trust him," Quil said. "He was never a boy scout."

"Wanna put your money where your mouth is?" Jacob asked, flexing his muscles.

"Not at the table," Esme said.

"Sure sure. So, no suspects?" Jacob continued. He eyed her like she was hiding these very intriguing secrets.

"If I knew, I probably wouldn't tell you, especially since you weren't really there, were you?"

Jacob tapped his nose. "I see what you're laying down."

Esme smirked at him.

"Bet it was those Cullen's. They cleared off pretty quickly," Quil muttered.

"Don't let Esme here you say that," Jacob sang. "She's dating the Doc."

"Oh, that's right!" Embry almost shouted, amused at Quil's obvious discomfort. "You're out of the study group now, bud!"

Quil ruffled the hair on the back of his head. "I didn't mean anything by it, Esme. Really, I didn't. Everyone knows the Doc, even here on the reservation."

"It's okay, Quil. No harm done." Esme gave him a warm smile, hoping to coax him back into the conversation. He was shrinking further and further into his seat as Embry and Jacob teased him.

"Guess you go for that, huh?" Jacob said, turning his grinning face on her.

"What?"

"Tall, blonde, and handsome."

Esme shook her head as he wiggled his eyebrows at her. "My love life is not an approved discussion topic for these tutoring sessions."

"From what I recall, we never exactly outlined what would be discussed during these tutoring sessions. Plus we've talked about our love lives enough—"

"Or lack thereof," she said.

Embry and Quil both howled with laughter. "Savage," Embry said through his tears. "Well played, Esme."

"Yeah," Quil said. "You can hang with us anytime."

"Alright, alright," Jacob said, elbowing his friends. "I accept defeat." He huffed and smiled with just the corner of his mouth. "But it's not because I'm not a catch."

"Of course not," Esme said. "Maybe these girls just aren't the right ones."

"Exactly," Jacob agreed, bolstered by her words.

Embry sighed. "I liked it better when we were chirping him."

There was a knock at the door and the easy banter faded for a moment as Jacob got up to answer it. He made a sound deep in his throat as he reached the living room window.

"Who is it?" Embry wondered.

"Agh," Jacob growled. "It's Paul." He opened the door a crack, blocking the visitor from sight. "What do you want?"

"Don't be obnoxious."

"Don't act like you're wanted here."

"Honestly, kid."

Jacob straightened in the doorway. "Do I look like a kid to you? What are you, like four years older than me? Get outta here."

"Is your sister home?"

"I don't know," he said, but rolled his eyes and let Paul in. He was taller than Jacob and more filled out, making the kid look unusually scrawny next to him.

The boys at the table averted their eyes, being particularly thorough on their read through of the short story they had been assigned as homework.

Esme raised a questioning brow as Jacob returned to the table, scowling.

"That's Paul Lahote," he whispered in response. "He's a real a-hole, but he has a thing for my sister, and apparently she likes his big stupid face, so I'm doing as dad said and being civil."

Embry snorted.

"Well," Esme mused, "at least you're taking the protective brother thing seriously. No one can fault you for that."

Jacob shrugged. "It's more than that." He glanced at Embry and Quil. "I mean, it was never a thing before. We barely ever spoke, then suddenly he goes from twig to this roid-head and starts hanging around all the time. He can get scary angry, too. It's just . . . weird."

"Weird?" Esme prompted. She'd had her fill of weird this year, so if Jacob needed to talk, perhaps she was more than suited for it.

"He hangs out with this guy named Sam. They have a kind of . . . I don't know."

"Jake—" Quil whispered, shaking his head. He gestured to the hallway.

Jacob looked around, noting the door to his sister's room was now open a crack.

Esme noted the shift in mood. Something about Paul made Jacob very nervous. "Jacob—"

"Let's just study, Esme. I've gotta ace this test, right?"

"Sure," she said. "Okay."

* * *

By the time they'd finished studying, the sky was dark grey, quickly becoming black, not with night, but with storm clouds.

Esme climbed into her car and pulled out her phone for the first time since arriving on the reservation, scrolling through her messages. There was an abnormal amount from Carlisle and she hit the call button, feeling anxious at the tone of his text messages.

"Hello," she said when he answered.

"Where are you?"

She frowned, starting her car. "The reservation. Why? What happened?"

"Nothing. I'm coming to get you."

She pulled out of the driveway and onto the main road, turning on her wipers as heavy raindrops started to fall. "Carlisle, I'm perfectly capable of driving—"

She gasped, dropping her phone as she slammed on the breaks.

There, standing in the middle of the road—shirtless and shaking—was Paul.

Blindly, she reached for her phone. Carlisle was frantically calling her name, his words muffled.

When she looked up again, Paul was no longer in the middle of the road, but beside her window and she jumped. Something about what Jacob said . . . about Paul getting "scary angry" registered with her as she looked into his eyes, somehow more animal than human. There was a wild rage there, waiting to burst. She'd seen that before. When Charles was angry, he'd have that same frenzied look.

He pressed his face close to the glass, and though it was muted, she could still hear him. "There's a leech hovering around our borders. He's here for you. I could smell him on you as soon as I entered the house. So do us all a favour and don't—"

"Get away from her!"

Jacob came out of nowhere, launching himself at Paul and the two of them tumbled out of sight. Instinct grabbed her, and Esme pushed open the door, concern for Jacob overcoming the terror she'd felt building. The boys rolled on the ground in front of the car, kicking up mud and water as rain fell from above. It was clear that Paul was stronger, but there was something tenacious about Jacob, and his long limbs refused to yield.

"Jake, stop!" Embry and Quil shouted as they raced out of the house to help him.

Esme was frozen. This clearly wasn't just a bit of roughhousing between the boys. This was a fight born of some deep-rooted hatred and she knew that getting between them wasn't a good idea. She stepped back towards her car and grabbed her phone. The call to Carlisle had gone dead, but she scrolled through her contacts for Billy's number.

"Paul! That's enough."

Before she could dial, another shirtless boy stepped out of the woods. This boy—man—who she assumed was Sam by the way the others deferred to him, separated Paul and Jacob, took Paul by the shoulders, and pushed him towards the forest.

He turned before disappearing into the thick cover of trees. "Go home, Jacob."

"I'm not one of yours!" Jacob shouted back, spitting blood. "You can't tell me what to do."

"Go home!"

As the boys disappeared, Esme raced around the car, kneeling by a bruised and battered Jacob. "Oh, your face!"

"I'm fine," he said, rubbing his sleeve under his nose. "It's nothing. You should get back in your car. In case that a-hole comes back."

He scrambled to his feet, with all the ease and grace of someone who hadn't just been beaten, and held her door open for her and watched as she got in. "It's okay, Esme. Really. You should go now."

"Yeah, we'll take care of him," Embry said. "Don't worry."

Esme nodded, feeling a sick sensation deep in her gut. She watched the three boys disappear in her rearview mirror and that uneasy feeling settled in her stomach as she pulled onto the main road that led into town.

She pulled around a curve, taking it slower than usual as the rain grew heavier. Then she slammed on the breaks for the second time that night and swerved onto the edge of the road.

Carlisle stood there, slick with rain, though impossibly poised, like some sort of creature of the night. Her heart hammered as she watched him, a relieved sob travelling up her throat. It was then that the spell broke, for both of them. Carlisle's features melted as he approached her, becoming gentle and kind once more. But Esme's temper flared.

He pulled her door open and she glared at him.

"What are you doing?" she cried. "I could have hit you!"

"You can't hurt me."

She shuddered, her entire body registering the shock. "That's beside the point, Carlisle!"

"Are you okay?"

She rubbed her hands over her face. "Yes, I'm fine."

"What happened?"

"Nothing, but what are you doing here? I thought there was a treaty."

"I haven't crossed any borders."

"But you're hovering, it made them nervous." She didn't know what was going on, but somehow Paul had known exactly who and _what_ Carlisle was.

"Who was nervous?"

She looked away, squeezing the wheel in frustration. There was something here that she was missing.

"Who, Esme? Tell me."

He spoke to her in a tone that she had never heard before. He didn't yell, but it was brisk and commanding. He wasn't asking her something, he was ordering it.

She glared back at him, jaw set tight. His fists were curled by his sides now and he looked more like a vampire than she had ever seen.

"I'll drive," he said, nodding ahead to where his car was parked under the cover of the trees.

"Carlisle, I can drive myself."

"Please get in the car, Esme. I'll send one of the kids out to pick yours up."

"There's no need for that. I'm perfectly capable—"

"Esme, please." He was shaking now and she knew he was struggling to contain whatever emotion it was that he was trying to clamp down, so even though she was frustrated with him, she got out of her car and marched across the road to his.

He beat her to the door and opened it for her.

When she sat down in the passenger seat and buckled her belt a violent shiver ripped through her and she realized just how cold she'd gotten. The rain was already soaking into her clothes. As Carlisle started the car and sped onto the road, he adjusted the heat and her fingers uncurled from her knees.

"Your teeth are chattering," he said.

"I'm fine," she insisted. They were both frustrated with each other, but the most annoying part was that she didn't actually know why. To be honest, she didn't even know what it really felt like to be frustrated with Carlisle, the only things she knew was that he was frantic about something and wasn't explaining what had happened or why he'd been waiting for her. "Where are we going?" she asked suddenly. "This isn't the way to my apartment."

"We're not going to your apartment."

"Carlisle—"

"I couldn't get a hold of you!" he burst. His face flickered through fear and panic and pain and anger in an instant. It was a dizzying sight. "Alice couldn't see you. That happens sometimes; you get fuzzy for some reason. But tonight you disappeared altogether. And then you wouldn't answer your phone. What was I supposed to think, Esme?"

"I'm sorry. My phone was in my purse. I must have left it on silent. But that doesn't mean you can act like this."

"Anything could have happened to you and I'd have no idea because you've gone to the one place I can't follow."

"I'm there all the time. Nothing bad has ever happened."

"What was different about tonight?" he said, ignoring her.

"What?"

"You're right. You are there all the time. But what happened tonight that was different?"

"Nothing. I tutored the boys at Jacob's house. Paul—one of the Quileute boys—he came over to see Jacob's sister. He was angry though when I left. He called you a leech . . . do they know about what you are?"

Carlisle swallowed, taking a turn to quickly and his hand shot out to brace her as she grabbed for the door handle. "Their legends have becomes stories to the younger generations. Stories that were once a reality. Whether they suspect that we really are the creatures of old anymore . . . it's doubtful. There are some on the reservation that may remember, but Jacob Black and his friends are far too young."

"He said he could smell you on me, and that you were hanging around the border."

Carlisle's fingers tightened around the steering wheel and Esme could hear the plastic screech.

"He's transformed then."

"What?"

"Like his ancestors. He's a wolf."

Esme sat back in her seat, shocked. "A what?"

"You can't go there anymore." Carlisle pulled into his driveway and she could see the house through the trees.

She let out a strangled laugh of disbelief. "I don't think you get to tell me where I can go or not. That's not how this works."

"The reservation is dangerous. If Paul's transformed than most likely others have as well. And they're all young. Controlled by their emotions. By their anger and hatred and prejudice against us, and by proxy you."

"I don't . . . what are you talking about?"

"You once told me that Jacob told you about the ancient legends. The cold ones and—"

"The wolves," she finished lamely, flashes of memory filling her mind. It was like it all connected then—the legends, the stories, the nightmares of trees and vampires and the large creatures that hunted them.

"You cannot go there anymore," Carlisle insisted immediately. "Not ever again. It's too dangerous."

"You don't know that."

"I do. I made that treaty a long time ago with people who are long dead. I can't trust them to hold it to the same standards."

He pulled up in front of the garage. Esme could see a flicker in the mirror and saw Alice drive her own car up the driveway behind them. She pulled Esme's car up beside theirs and danced away inside.

"Carlisle, I'm going there to tutor children, not to get in the middle of your supernatural war."

"You can't. Not anymore."

Esme groaned and got out of the car. She marched over to her own car and yanked on the door. It was locked. She groaned again.

"Where are you going?" Carlisle asked, appearing beside her in a flash and laying his hand over hers on the door handle. The rain had soaked his hair and it fell against his forehead in tangled waves.

"Home. Where I wanted to go in the first place. You don't get to do this, Carlisle." For the first time since she had started seeing him, she felt the fragility of her humanity. He was stronger than her. Faster. And he was using it to manipulate her. These feelings she had right now, it was the same sort of thing she had with Charles, and it was making her angry. She didn't want these feelings, not now. The loss of control. She'd fought so hard to get it back, and not even Carlisle was going to take it from her again.

"I'd like my keys, Alice," she said, knowing the tiny girl would hear her from the house.

"Come inside," Carlisle said. "Out of the rain."

"I don't want to come inside."

"Esme, please—"

"Stop, okay."

"Look, Jacob Black is dangerous. I know you care about helping him, but I can't let you put yourself in danger, not where Alice can't see you."

"That's not your choice, Carlisle. And it's not Alice's. I'm sorry you don't like that answer, but it's the only one I have right now."

"That doesn't work for me."

"Yes, well, this doesn't exactly work for me." She yanked on her door again, angry now, and cold. "Alice!"

"Esme, stop, you'll hurt yourself."

She whirled around and he took a step back to avoid a collision that might hurt her. She looked at him, an aching tangle of sadness inside her, and spoke very slowly. "I'm fine, like I said in the car. And I can make my own decisions. I let a man make them for me once and I'm not about to do it again."

He looked as if she had slapped him; as if the weight of her words had knocked him speechless.

Alice slipped out into the rain between them and placed Esme's keys on the hood of her car.

"I'll—" Carlisle stuttered, staring at her with wide and confused eyes. "Let me drive you home at least."

She put her hands up, stopping him from reaching her. "No," she whispered. "I just. I need some space for a little bit."

She grabbed her keys from where Alice left them and finally climbed into the car. She was wet and hurt, but the roads were empty, for which she was glad because the tears in her eyes blurred her vision.

* * *

 **A/N:** I'm sorry . . . *hides under table*


	30. Chapter 30

The rain had never felt as cold as it did that day. In fact, in three hundred years, Carlisle was certain he'd never registered the temperature of the rain so acutely, but no part of him could deny the coarse sensation of ice that had crawled through his dormant veins upon watching Esme drive away.

Upon hearing the muffled sobs that broke from her chest before she'd even left the driveway.

He felt both wretched and alone all at once.

It was only a soft hand upon his that finally broke the sheet of stone that had melted over him.

"Come inside," Alice said quietly. "I don't like seeing you like this."

"And what do you see?" he asked.

She smiled gently. "Did this fight change your love for her?"

"Of course not."

"Then I see the same as I always do. She's just scared."

He was silent. Another shadow joined them in the rain, long blonde curls spiralling over her shoulders.

"She's not afraid of you," Rosalie assured him. "Just of the unknown. You've never argued like this before. You have to understand . . . there's a fear ingrained inside her. It's always there, whether she wants it or not. That flight or fight response. How else is she supposed to protect herself?"

"I would never hurt her, even as angry as I was."

"She knows that now. And she probably always did."

"Do I go to her?"

Rosalie laughed. "You know, it was Emmett's persistence that won me over in the end. He refused to let me wallow, no matter how hard I tried."

"I do remember that."

"You have to do what you think is right. I will say this though, sometimes space is needed. And sometimes the best thing you can do is be there even when she pushes you away. Be there to remind her that you always will be, no matter how carelessly words are thrown."

"Or how many priceless artifacts are destroyed by being flung at a goofy, oversized newborn," Alice quipped.

Rosalie chuckled. "That too."

"Thank you," Carlisle said, turning on his heel. The ice in his veins had thawed, though the vise on his heart only seemed to tighten. Only one thing would ease it, he knew—and she was not here right now.

He made his way upstairs, avoiding Emmett's sympathetic glance and Jasper's calming waves, however, Edward had headed him off and gone to the first place he knew he'd go in her absence—the place where he always thought best—his office.

Edward sat in one of the oversized leather chairs, flipping through a copy of _Neurosurgeon Today_. His eyes flickered up as Carlisle entered. "Perhaps you're being too hard on yourself."

"And perhaps not hard enough."

"You're dripping on the carpet. Alice won't be pleased. It's an antique."

"You know, I'm really not in the mood for a lecture."

"As if I could lecture you," Edward laughed. "This isn't that. It's a friendly reminder that despite the absence of a pulse, there are still things about you that are very human. Don't you remember all those talks we had? All the words about the emotions I thought I'd long put to rest until Bella walked into my life? Anger, frustration, fear—these are very human feelings and entirely normal."

"I shouldn't have said those things to her."

"Perhaps not, but would you feel any better having not told her how you feel?"

"No, though I could have used more tact."

"A good lesson for next time. Trust me, I'm still learning that one."

Carlisle smiled despite himself. "I didn't mean for it to turn out like this. I was terrified tonight."

"Only to be expected."

Carlisle cleared a spot on his desk and sat, quite aware that the wood would bear watermarks in the morning. "It's just, I know the fallacy of the human body. It works only when all the parts can function together. In that design, there are so many things that could go wrong. And it terrifies me every day. I imagine a long life with Esme; even in one where she was human until the end, I had envisioned years with her, but humans are delicate and fickle creatures."

"Especially against a group of rowdy, teenage wolves."

"Yes, exactly."

"At least she has less of a penchant for searching out danger," Edward commented dryly.

Carlisle winced, realizing the painful kinship he now shared with his youngest son. "I am only now starting to imagine the anguish you went through while Bella was human."

"I wish I could tell you it gets easier," Edward confessed. "But it doesn't; your heart becomes more tangled with every day that passes."

"I worry for her; she has such a capacity to love, even the things that she shouldn't, the things that could hurt her, and I never wanted to be one of those things."

"Then don't be."

"It breaks me," Carlisle whispered, "knowing there are things I can't protect her from, parts of her past I can't erase."

"I know it never goes away, but somehow even Emmett managed to pull Rosalie back into the world when she refused to see it. You've changed in the time you've known Esme—for the better I think—and I certainly believe you've changed her life for the better. You might not be able to erase those dark parts of her past, but you can be there with her to write a new future."

Carlisle smiled up at his son. Love had changed him, too. And though he spent so much of his life quietly observing those around him, he also was part of what kept their family together. He saw people in a way no one else did, and Carlisle put a large part of his trust in the boy.

Edward huffed, rolling his eyes. "Just go after her already. I can't listen to you fret all night."

* * *

Once she was home, Esme stripped out of her wet clothes, leaving them in a dripping mess on the floor as she got into the shower. She stayed in there until she warmed up and then for a long time afterwards, trying not to think.

The thing about silence though, is that it does nothing but fester thought, and even the dull drum of the water running over her body wasn't enough to drown it out.

Finally, when she'd pruned as much as she could take, Esme got out and dressed in some comfy clothes, though they did little to comfort her now. She puttered around her apartment for a little while, fiddling with the mail that had accumulated on her kitchen table and tending to the houseplants that had braved the winter, but everything she went to do felt off. By the time she'd made herself some soup for dinner, she wasn't even hungry anymore.

The sky was black now. Night had fallen completely, yet the rain continued in an unending sheet. She stared into the trees, imagining faces where there were none. Still . . . some part of her knew Carlisle was out there. In the rain. Waiting and watching. _Hoping for some kind of resolution_. Some kind of ending to this cruel torture they'd put themselves through.

And she felt terrible about it. Besides that, she was lonely in a way—the argument had put a distance between them, both physically and emotionally. At that moment, space was exactly what they had needed. Now though, that she had calmed down and could reflect on both their words, she wanted to close that distance.

She was still frustrated with him—some part of her acknowledged that—but his intentions had been good, and maybe this was one of those tricky patches they were going to have to work through together. It wasn't exactly as if there was a rulebook about what to do when your supernatural boyfriend was having a tiff with the supernatural children next door.

And he'd only wanted to protect her after all.

She'd compared him to Charles in the heat of the moment, caught up in all too familiar and frightening emotions. But it wasn't true. Carlisle was nothing like that man. He'd been scared. She'd frightened _him_. And people did and said stupid things when they were afraid, especially where love was concerned.

But he'd let her go in the end. Let her drive away. And that was something Charles had never done. No, by this point she would have been black and blue.

So for that alone, she owed him an apology.

Esme left her uneaten soup on the counter and walked towards the balcony door. She flipped the lock up and opened the door an inch. Feeling the wind slip through, she pulled her sweater tighter around her and waited.

It only took a moment for him to appear: a single instant held in one breath and one blink. And even though she was expecting it, she still jumped when he materialized on the other side of the glass, stepping out of the darkness like some kind of angelic shadow.

He slid the glass open slowly, watching her with sad eyes, refusing to cross the boundary of the door. Even with space between them, she already felt better. His presence was a relief, as was knowing he had been waiting there, as torn and confused as she was.

A quick study revealed that he was soaked through and she wondered how long he'd been out there. She would have asked him, but it still felt like too soon for words.

Instead, she memorized the crease of his brow and the uncertainty of his lips. It was as if he couldn't decide whether to smile or frown, so he just stood there, looking lost and sorry and pathetic.

Eventually, as some rational part of her mind returned, she reached out and took his hand, yanking him across the threshold and into the living room. She knew it would soak her clothes, but she hugged him anyway. Not just a hug, but a full-bodied embrace that pulled them so close she could feel the press of his ribs as he inhaled.

"Esme, I—"

Her hand against his chest stopped him as she stood up on her toes, stretching to silence him with a kiss.

"I'm sorry," she whispered against his lips, the taste cold but comforting. "I didn't mean it. You're nothing like him."

"No . . ." Carlisle began after a sigh that might have been relief. "You were right. I should have known better. I was terrified tonight, which is no excuse, but I am sorry as well. I never want to hurt you like that." His words were sweet as they brushed across her face.

There was more to be said. Of that she was certain. But right now, the wolves and the reservation felt very far away. They would talk about it; perhaps later or tomorrow, but what mattered was that feeling of warmth that spread between them again.

She clung to him, her cheek wet against his chest. "How long were you out in the rain?"

He looked sheepish when her eyes travelled upwards. "I had to make sure you made it home okay."

"You've been standing out there this entire time?" Esme shook her head. "C'mon. I'll get you a towel or something."

He slipped off his shoes and she led him down the hall, pausing by the bathroom. A towel might fix his hair but it wouldn't solve the sopping wet clothes.

Carlisle seemed to come to the same conclusion. "I could just go home and change."

"Please don't leave," she said, some desperate part of her unable to let him go just yet. She glanced towards the closet with the stacked laundry machines where her clothes were gently spinning through a wash cycle. "I could just throw them in the dryer with mine."

"And what shall I wear until then?"

Esme smirked. "The comforter?"

He laughed gently and the sound eased some of the tightness in her chest. Then he pulled her close and pressed a long, lingering kiss to her lips—the kind of kiss that made her grab his shirt collar for support. "If I must," he sighed, beginning to unbutton his shirt.

Esme paused him with gentle fingers. "Let me."

* * *

MEANWHILE . . .

* * *

"Bet he gets it in," Emmett said, tossing a football towards the skylight several stories up. The way Carlisle had run out of here, he'd be surprised if they weren't married by the morning. "Make-up sex is the best. Right, babe?"

Rosalie scoffed, sorting through the mail and tossing the junk into the recycle bin. She glanced up at him, her beautiful doe eyes creased with amusement. "Oh, please. Carlisle would never while she's still human. Even his control isn't that good."

"Wanna make it interesting?" Emmett looked around for Jasper. "What d'you think?"

"I mean, the tension between them is palpable on a normal day." Jasper gave one of those moderated smiles. The kind that gave nothing and everything away at once.

Emmett considered chucking the football at his face to see if the smile changed.

"But," Jasper continued, "with that kind of emotion bouncing around tonight . . . relief and lust are a powerful combination."

"I like it. I'll take those odds. Rosie, you in?"

"There's no way it happens tonight," she said.

"Agreed," Bella added, joining them in the sitting room. "Carlisle is far too much of a gentleman, especially concerning Esme's past."

"Give me a break, have you seen the way she looks at him?" Emmett waggled his eyebrows. "Eddie boy, you've been inside their heads, back me up here."

"It's not a one-sided attraction, that's all I'm saying." Edward held his hand out for Bella. "We're leaving now; before this conversation becomes any more graphic."

Alice gave a tiny gasp from the window seat where she sat quietly, scanning their futures. Emmett looked over to see a sly smile grace her lips.

"What?" Rosalie asked.

Alice stood quickly, biting her lip and giving her head a tiny shake. Jasper followed her up the staircase.

"I know that face," Emmett said, sitting up. "That's the sex face!"

"There was a bed and very little clothing involved," Alice said. "That's all you get."

"I called it." Emmet laid back on the couch, tossing the ball in the air.

Rosalie came to sit by his feet. "It's probably not what you think it is, babe."

He caught the football with one hand and looked down at her. "You know, sometimes I'm right about things."

"Not often enough to worry me."

"Hey!"

"It's okay." She leaned over, her long blonde hair tickling his face before her lips did. "I still love you."

* * *

An hour, some longing glances, and lingering touches later, Carlisle was fully dressed, save for the top couple buttons of his dress shirt. It had been a rare treat and Esme wasn't quite finished marvelling at the beautiful lines of his chest. She'd wrapped herself around him, enjoying the warmth that remained in his clothes. He really was like some marble statue come to life—one of Michelangelo's great works of art. It was as if David himself had walked off his podium.

"What are you thinking?" Carlisle asked while his fingers splayed easily through her hair.

A smile curled her lips. "You naked and wrapped in the comforter on my bed was not how I envisioned this day going."

He chuckled and hugged her closer. "Nor I."

"Maybe you should start keeping a change of clothes here. I mean, for emergencies such as this."

"Do I get space in a drawer?"

"Perhaps." Esme leaned up to kiss him gently.

"Thank you, but I don't intend to do this to you again."

She offered him a half smile. "I think it's inevitable, despite our best intentions. Couples just argue sometimes. Though I'd rather you didn't have to stand out in the rain, so we'll have to talk about these things that bother us. Clearly, La Push is a sore spot because of . . . recent developments."

He grew very still. "I was just frightened that something might have happened to you."

"I can't promise to stop tutoring Jacob. It's important to me."

"I know," he sighed.

"But I _can_ understand how terrifying it would be to have Alice tell me she couldn't see you anymore and then be unable to come after you . . . so, we'll figure something out."

He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "Thank you."

"For what?"

"For being reasonable. I know how difficult it is for you to bend on this."

"If only we'd been this civil a few hours ago."

"I think I let my emotions run away from me," Carlisle said. "Edward claimed it was rather human of me. I'm afraid I haven't had anything to fear in a very long time. Losing you would devastate me. Evidently, that thought tempted even my patience."

"Ahh, bested by your humanity, Doctor Cullen. How could you?" Esme mumbled the words against the skin of his neck, her nose tracing the line of his jaw.

"You make me do ridiculous things."

"Do I?" she whispered, climbing into his lap. His hands immediately fell to her waist and she let both of hers sift through the tufts of hair at the back of his neck. They were softened by the rain and she tugged gently, bringing his lips to hers.

When she kissed him it was without reservation. Tomorrow they would talk some more. She didn't think they had much else to _say_ tonight.


	31. Chapter 31

It had been several days since their argument and Esme had spent the majority of that time with Carlisle. An understanding had passed between them and now it was as if they were trying to make up for lost time—trying to make up for the unwanted space that had driven a wedge between them.

Right now the reservation was still a conversation that wasn't completely settled, but it was clear that they could disagree without it negatively impacting their time together. When Esme wasn't teaching, she was with the Cullen's, and Carlisle had taken some unplanned time off from the hospital, making himself very available to her.

The last week had passed in a blur of new schedules, new students, and some revamped lesson plans. The nice thing about the new term starting was that Esme already had the groundwork done, which meant she needed far less time to prep for her classes.

"So who got the highest grade in the class?" Emmett asked one night as she sat at the large kitchen island, enjoying some of the lasagna Bella had cooked earlier. "I'm nailing this senior year. Carlisle better make room on the fridge when report cards come in."

Esme smiled at the thought of Carlisle having to sign all their perfect report cards. She took a bite of lasagna, chewing over Emmett's question. No doubt this would turn into some kind of bet. "I haven't seen the final marks yet."

Emmett barked a happy laugh. "You're lying and you know it."

"I would never," she said, though a smirk turned her lips.

"Alright, who was it? Rosie, right? I'll get Edward if you don't tell me." He gave her a shifty side-eye glance. "I'm sure he already knows."

Esme sighed and pushed her plate out of the way, levelling Emmett with a stare that made him grin from ear to ear. "Surprisingly, it wasn't one of you. That's not to say that you all didn't do incredibly well though."

"Well, you know, I did have to take one for the team earlier in the year. You know, when my flub of an essay got you and Carlisle together. If anyone deserves extra credit, I'd say I do."

"And if you remember correctly, the entire idea was Alice's," Edward said, coming into the kitchen with Bella on his arm. "So maybe she deserves the extra credit instead."

"Mind readers and psychics don't qualify," Emmett said. "You already have the means to cheat."

"If only I needed to," Edward said.

Esme sipped her water as Emmett and Edward continued to debate. Bella rolled her eyes, though she wrapped her arms around Edward's waist and hugged him.

"And what are they arguing about this time?"

Esme jumped in her seat, feeling the familiar rush of Carlisle's cool breath on the back of her neck. He pressed a kiss there, sending shivers down her arms.

"I didn't mean to startle you, love."

She laughed, spinning on her stool to face him. "Yes, you did," she teased.

His crooked smile faltered somewhat as he looked at her, a curious expression taking over his features. A thin line appeared between his brows and his eyes narrowed minutely.

"What is it?" she wondered.

Edward had stopped talking with Emmett and looked over, his eyes flickering between them.

Carlisle leaned in very close, his ear turned to her chest.

"What are you doing?" She placed her hand on the back of his head, fingers tucked between his golden hair.

"Breathe in again." His hands came out to hold her arms, keeping her very still.

"Carlisle—" He pressed his head to her chest this time and she could feel the cool spark of his skin through her clothes.

"You're getting sick. You have decreased air entry to the bottom of your lungs."

She brushed him off with a smile. "I feel fine. Honestly." She cleared her throat. "Not even a tickle." She narrowed her eyes at him as he pulled away. "And don't doctor me. You're not supposed to be working right now."

"I can't help it. I'm so in tune with you now." He fiddled with her shirt sleeves and she knew he'd been listening to her pulse. "How about I just write you a prescription. Catch it early, a short course of antibiotics and you'll be good as new."

"I feel good as new right now." She stood and took her plate to the sink.

"We should go hunting," Bella said smoothly, ushering the boys out of the kitchen.

"Esme—" Carlisle began as soon as they were gone.

She turned from the sink and crossed her arms, giving him a soft smile. "You can't treat something I don't even have yet."

She left the kitchen then and made her way upstairs to change out of her school clothes. In the closet in Carlisle's bedroom, she slipped her sweater off, pulling a comfy long sleeve over her head. She found the zipper on her skirt and slipped that off, too, opting for a pair of grey sweats that were laid across the foot of the bed. She was just looking for socks when Carlisle came in.

"It's most likely walking pneumonia," he said. "Edward says it's been going around the school."

"Well, will you catch it if I kiss you?"

"Vampires are immune to human illness. The venom would kill off anything that entered our systems."

"Then you can kiss me hello?"

He stopped, shook his head slowly, and offered her a sweetly shy smile. "I'm sorry." He bent towards her. She expected the kiss to be quick, but he lingered and she closed her eyes, savouring the moment. Discreetly, he attempted to brush the hair away from her forehead.

"You can stop checking me for a fever," she whispered against his lips. "I'm fine."

"Are you certain? Nothing feels off—no aches? No malaise?"

"I feel perfect." She tugged him closer. "Stop worrying."

"I always worry where you're concerned."

"I know. But don't; you'll give yourself wrinkles."

He chuckled, laying kisses against her cheek. "We can't wrinkle."

"Imaginary ones then."

"Would you love me still?"

"Hmm . . . not sure," she said.

He scoffed, the sound entirely amused. "That's the deal breaker, huh? Imaginary wrinkles."

She gasped as he scooped her up, tossing her on the bed. She bounced once before he'd wrapped his arms around her again. With deft fingers, he pulled the pins from her hair and waves of caramel spilled across the pillow.

"It's good we talk about these things," he murmured. "I'll have to invest in some of those anti-ageing creams."

Esme traced the line of his jaw with the tip of her finger. "You're such a goof."

He closed the distance between them, lips separated by a breath, and whispered: "Only for you."

* * *

She stayed the night at Carlisle's request, but woke in the early hours of the morning, buried beneath expensive cotton sheets, feeling feverish. The space behind her eyes ached and her head felt like it was too big for her body.

"Don't," she said as she pushed his hand away and sat up. She didn't want to hear _I told you so_. Carlisle and his stupid, enhanced hearing. She grumbled as she kicked off the comforter and made her way to the bathroom, rifling through the cupboards for some Tylenol. The longer she stayed here, the more these human conveniences just happened to show up. She took two pills from a new bottle that was in the cupboard and made her way back into the bedroom.

She didn't even have the energy to fully open her eyes and moved blindly through the dark. A glass of water already sat on the bedside table when she reached the bed.

"I can go to the hospital and get you something stronger."

She looked at the clock. It was already two. She'd go in the morning, before school. "Stay," she pleaded, curling up on him without the covers. He felt pleasantly cool against her flushed skin.

"Fine, but we're going first thing."

His kissed her temple and stroked her skin. The feeling lulled her into something like sleep, but it wasn't, and strange fever dreams of pale faces and growling beasts filled her head until morning.

* * *

"So, it's pneumonia," she said, getting into the car.

Carlisle had waited patiently for her in the parking lot while she went to see a doctor. It wasn't that she didn't trust him. Of course, she did. It was just that physicians didn't normally treat the people they loved. There were policies that frowned on that kind of thing. And as much as the Cullen's played around the system with money and knowledge and secrecy, Carlisle was a public figure, and he didn't need any kind of conflict of interest creating blips on his record. The less he stood out, the less there was to erase from his life when it was time for them to move on again.

On the bright side, his position in the hospital meant that all he had to do was make a quick phone call and she was seen by his colleague, Doctor Snow, within minutes.

As she fumbled with the belt, feeling tired and groggy and like her head was floating, Carlisle wisely chose not to comment. She gripped her prescription in one hand and waited for her head to stop spinning.

He began to drive and when she had the energy to focus outside, she frowned. "Where are we going?"

"Back to my place, where I can take care of you. And before you protest, remember, they could have admitted you instead."

Esme closed her mouth then and they rode in silence, only peppered with the odd hacking cough.

When they arrived, they had the house to themselves seeing as the rest of the Cullen's were at school.

"I'll need to go home to get my bag," she told Carlisle. "I have lessons to prep for the substitute."

"You're not working. At least for a few days. I know it's hard to accept, but you're sick, love."

As if to undermine her, a rattling cough echoed through her chest. Perhaps he was right. Did she really have the energy to stare at a bunch of lesson plans right now?

"Fine, you win. I'll be the perfect patient. What do you want me to do?"

Carlisle disappeared and reappeared with the prescription bottle she'd been given. "Two now and every eight hours after that until they're gone."

Esme swallowed them down with some water. "Okay, drugs are done. What's next?"

"Bed."

Esme rolled her eyes, but even that sort of hurt. Her entire body was achy today and the thought of dragging herself up the stairs was especially unappealing.

"Would you like a lift?"

She nodded, looping her arms around his neck. He moved at a decidedly more human pace this time and for that she was grateful. If he'd moved at vampire speed she might have been sick all over him.

He put her purse down on the table beside the bed and deposited her in the middle.

"I'll be right back," he said.

He left and she went to work getting comfortable, throwing her socks to the floor and shedding her sweater for a tank top. She was far too warm as it was. Once she was settled, she rummaged through her purse.

"What are you looking for?" Carlisle asked. He'd returned with a cup of water and waited while she drank it. He took her empty glass.

"I just want to use my phone for a second." It wasn't in her purse though. She glanced around and spied it on the dresser by the door. He must have put it there when he carried her up.

"Let me get it."

"I can walk, you know. It's pneumonia, they didn't take my legs."

"Hilarious," Carlisle said, retrieving her phone and holding it out to her. "People die from pneumonia, _you know_."

"Yes, old people and people with compromised immune systems. Of which, I am neither."

"Who is so important that you have to call them right now?"

"No one," Esme said, taking the phone from him and shoving it behind her back. She caught him in the stomach as he leaned forward, her foot pressed against the muscled plains of his abdomen. He grinned, catching her foot and running his fingers along the arch, making her squirm. "I'll only be a moment," she giggled, wincing when it made her chest ache, "then you can doctor me all you want."

"I'll hold you to that."

He pressed a swift kiss to her forehead and left to refill her water glass.

Esme dialled the Black residence as soon as he was gone, though she knew in a house full of vampires that her calls would never be private. Nor would Carlisle be thrilled when he found out who she was talking to. They were still treading the memories of that argument carefully. In the end, rather than hurt each other, they'd agreed to disagree.

She was not naive to fact that couples fought, and considering their relationship branched two entirely different worlds, she was impressed that this was the first time they'd seriously argued. What gave her hope was how quickly the argument had been put to rest, and how controlled Carlisle had been. Even the slightest loss of control on his part might have hurtled her back into a dark swamp of memories that belonged to a life with Charles. But while she had lost her composure, Carlisle had restrained himself from uttering words that would scare her.

She knew he was afraid of hurting her in that way. Afraid of triggering these dark parts of her past. And it was that knowledge alone that deepened their bond. If he could think of her first—even in anger, or terror, or the sheer frustration she must have caused him that night—then she knew she could trust him with her heart. And no matter what battles they walked through, both together and against each other, Carlisle would always be waiting patiently on the other side for her.

The phone finally stopped ringing and Billy's husky voice filled the receiver as the answering machine turned on. She sighed. She could hang up, try again later, but she didn't.

The phone beeped and she cleared her throat.

"Jacob," she said. "It's Esme. I—I think we should talk. When you get a chance call me, okay? Thanks, bye."

She hung up the phone and stared up at the ceiling, making shapes out of the speckled finish. To say that she was disappointed was an understatement. She hadn't spoken to Jacob since that day on the reservation. Tonight would have been the first time seeing him since, but now that she was sick, she wouldn't be tutoring anybody.

"No answer?" Carlisle said.

She sat up, gauging the look on his face, but it was as blank and unreadable as ever. It was clear just how hard he was trying to mask whatever emotion he didn't want her to see: a flicker of pain, a flash of anger, fear, denial. The lack of expression was enough to tell her that he wasn't exactly pleased with her choice of phone call, but that he was _trying_.

"No," she answered quietly. A cough took her then and Carlisle abandoned his stone look for genuine concern, coming over with a fresh cup of water. He brushed his cool fingers over her cheek and she reached up to hold his hand to her face.

"You're warm," Carlisle said.

"Am I not always warm to you?"

"Not feverish."

"Oh."

"It will take the antibiotics a little while to kick in. Until then you need to drink lots of fluids. It will help thin the secretions in your lungs."

"If I drink anymore, I'm going to burst."

"I could always run you an IV."

"No thanks," she said. She'd agreed to be a good patient, but she drew the line at unnecessary needle pokes. She reached for the water he'd just brought her and took a big gulp. "Happy?"

Carlisle nodded, sitting down next to her on the bed. "How do you feel?"

"Honestly, tired more than anything."

"That's expected. You were tossing and turning all night."

As if on cue, she yawned and the next thing she knew, Carlisle had her tucked beneath the comforter, propped up on at least two pillows.

"Sleep," he told her.

"It's not even noon yet."

"That doesn't matter. You need to rest. Let your body fight this."

"Hmm . . . thank you."

"For what?" he asked, stroking her hair away from her face.

"For not saying I told you so."

"I was waiting for the right moment."

Esme laughed at the goofy look on his face, but it quickly dissolved into a thick, rattling cough.

Carlisle propped her up a little more and put a box of tissues beside her. "Okay, no more laughing."

"That was entirely your fault."

"You're right," he teased. "I should go."

She caught his arm, though she suspected he had no intention of leaving. "Stay until I fall asleep."

"I'll stay forever," he whispered, lying down next to her. He propped his head on his hand and traced the lines of her face with his fingertips: over her nose, across her forehead, the apple of her cheeks. It was soothing and she soon found her eyelids growing heavy. Before she slipped off, she grabbed his hand and pressed it to her forehead, using his cool skin to chase away whatever fever remained.

When she woke next it was hours later and Bella had arrived with dinner. Nothing seemed appetizing, however, and she quickly found herself asleep once more.

The next time she woke it was to darkness and the clock told her it was almost nine at night. She'd already slept the day away, and yet the exhaustion weighed heavily on her. She came around enough to realize that the cold hand on her forehead no longer belonged to Carlisle but to Alice.

"Carlisle's hunting," she whispered. "I've been given explicit instructions to act as your personal ice pack until he returns.

"Thank you."

* * *

This pattern continued for about three days. On the fourth, Esme woke up feeling much more like herself and was eager to get out of bed.

However, Carlisle only let her move as far as the edge before he stopped her. "Let me," he asked holding out his hand for her wrist so he could take her pulse.

"I know you can hear my heart beat just fine."

"I'm being human for you."

"Don't be human. Be a vampire and tell me I'm all better." She waited another ten seconds. "Well?" she asked.

"I'm pleased to report that you're doing much better."

"That's good because I have a lot of work to do today."

He caught her again, a hand wrapped around her middle. "I said much better, not all better. Sorry, love, but you stay until the antibiotics have run their full course."

"That's three more days!" she protested, checking the prescription bottle on the bedside table. "I can't miss that much school."

"Two of those days are the weekend. I think they'll survive."

"Fine. But can we at least go for a walk later? I've been cooped up for days."

"If you'd like."

"I would."

"What else would you like?"

"A coffee, maybe . . . eventually. And a shower." She took his hand and tugged him closer to the bed. "But mostly just you."

"It just so happens I can make all three of those things a reality." He stepped over her, wrapping his arms around her and pulling her close as he rolled onto the bed.

"Mmmm." She smiled into his skin. "I hope you don't treat all your patients this way, Doctor."

"Only the most special."

She turned over in his arms and he ran a lazy finger down her back, along the same line as her spine. She relaxed under his touch and eventually, he laid his head against her back. She knew he was listening to her lungs, but he lingered after, tracing shapes into her skin. It was so calming, that she found herself drifting off once more and thoughts of morning coffee turned into lunch instead.

* * *

"I feel like I've been sleeping an inordinate amount," she said over some tea and toast later that day. Carlisle was doting on her and instead of walking down to the kitchen, he'd brought lunch to her. She still didn't have much of an appetite, but her energy was returning little by little.

"You have. It's how the body heals."

She reached for her phone as she ate, answering emails and responding to text messages. Sarah had been busy having a drunk, one-sided conversation with herself and Esme chimed in, answering a long list of questions.

Her finger hovered over her call history, lingering on Jacob's number. Her eyes flickered to Carlisle who'd been watching her.

He gently wrapped his hand around her knee. "If you need to make a phone call, go ahead. I'll admit I don't like the idea of you down there alone, but call if it'll make you feel better."

She frowned. "Are you sure Edward is the only one who can read minds?"

Carlisle laughed. "Yes. I just know you. Even when you should be worrying about yourself, you're focused on everyone else."

"Thank you," she said, leaning over to kiss him before dialling.

Honestly, she hadn't been expecting an answer and almost spit her tea out when Billy picked up. "Billy, hi! It's Esme. I haven't heard back from Jacob yet and wondered if we were still on for next Thursday?"

"Oh, uh, he's been sick," Billy said. "Fever or something. Just needs to rest up for now. I'll let you know when he feels like having people come around again."

"Oh, I'm sorry to hear that. Tell him I hope he feels better."

"I will, Esme. Thanks for calling."

She frowned at Carlisle when she hung up the phone. "Apparently it's going around. This flu bug or pneumonia or whatever."

Even as she said it, she knew it was a lie. She was a teacher; she'd been lied to dozens of times and eventually, all the excuses started to have the same kind of tone. Billy was keeping something from her. Maybe to protect her. Maybe to protect Jacob. Whatever it was, she only knew that she missed him.

"You really care about that boy, don't you?" Carlisle said.

"Yes," she answered immediately. She was caught off guard by a strange bout of emotion. "He's a good kid," she whispered.

Somewhere between Shakespeare and soliloquies, Jacob had taken up a special place in her heart, and despite everything else, she knew he was in trouble. She didn't know what kind of trouble and she certainly didn't even know if she could help him, but it was clear that he was hurting.

She didn't believe in coincidences, but lately, she had started to believe in fate. There was a reason Jacob Black had come into her life and she wasn't about to abandon him now.


	32. Chapter 32

For Esme, the quest to help Jacob became just that: a quest. It seemed the harder she tried to reach out, the harder it became to reach him at all. She called the following week and even the week after that to check if Jacob wanted help with his English homework or if he just wanted to talk. But each time she was greeted by the voicemail or by Billy politely declining her once more.

Something had happened since that day on the reservation. Since Jacob and Paul had fought—beating each other until they bled. Esme had distinct memories of that day, but none more clear than Jacob, soaked with rain and blood, screaming back at Sam: _I'm not one of yours!_

Even in her memory, the words made her shiver uncomfortably. There had been a desperate panic in his voice and it hurt her to see a boy that was usually so loving and carefree be genuinely frightened. So, finally, despite Billy's protests and the one she'd surely get from Carlisle, she worked up the nerve and left another message.

"Jacob, it's Esme. I'm coming down to the reservation, whether your friends like it or not. I'm worried about you. I'll . . . I'll see you soon." She hung up before she could second guess her decision. Then she picked up her phone again and called Carlisle. "I'm going to La Push," she said as soon as he answered.

There was a healthy pause between them. He didn't make a sound, not even to breathe. And then: "Now?"

"Yes. I'll only be an hour. And I'll keep my phone on me."

She waited with baited breath for him to answer. Though in the end, she wasn't seeking his permission, exactly. Not even his approval. Just his acceptance.

Finally, he replied. "I love you. _Please_ be careful."

"I will," she said, already digging in her purse for her car keys.

"Esme?"

"Yes?"

"Can I—" He blew out a breath. "Would you mind if I meet you on your way back into town? I'll keep my distance from the border, so as not to upset any of them. I just . . . I need to be there."

She smiled into the phone. He was trying _so_ hard for her. If this would make him feel better, make him feel more in control of the situation, then this was something she could bend on. "I'd like that," she said.

"Alright," he sighed, his tone light with relief. "I'll see you in a little while then."

When she arrived at the tiny side road that led to La Push, she was surprised to find Jacob leaning against a car as she approached the border. He wore a muscle shirt and cut off jeans despite the weather and not even a chill seemed to fluster his exposed skin. She was just so happy to see him, she didn't even comment on it, or the fact that he seemed to have grown since the last time they were together.

Again, he was taller and more filled out. She quietly wondered if he'd ever stop growing. He'd begun to look more like a young man than a boy, though his eyes still held the charm of youth and she clung to that as she pulled onto the side of the road.

She got out to meet him. "Am I not allowed on the reservation anymore?" she asked. "Are you the La Push police?"

Jacob smirked. "I'd rather not have a repeat of last time. Paul's a hot head on a good day and he's at my place again."

"Ah, I see." Esme nodded to his ride—an older, red Volkswagen. "You've been busy."

"Oh, yeah. That's the Rabbit. I'm fixing her up. Might not look like much on the outside, but inside she's pretty sweet."

"What happened to the bike you were working on?"

"It wasn't fast enough." Jacob grinned. He nodded into the woods a bit, to a tree that had come down in a storm. He sat on the trunk and she took the seat beside him, feeling out the silence.

"You do smell like him," Jacob said finally. "I'd never noticed that before."

"Like who?"

"A leech. Guess the Doc's not as perfect as everyone thinks." A flash of anger clouded his face as he stared out into the woods, but it passed eventually. "You remember the stories I told you?"

"The Cold Ones?"

"And the other part—"

"The wolves," Esme said flatly.

Jacob laughed, but it was almost a humourless bark. "Yeah, so I guess some legends aren't just stories after all. Turns out it's in the genes or something."

"Is that why you were so sick?"

"Yeah, it starts with this wicked fever. I could never figure out why those guys were all so secretive, why they seemed to bow down to Sam like he was a God. It makes more sense now." His brow furrowed and he rubbed his hands up and down his face.

"Jacob, are you okay?"

"All things considered, I guess so. At least I'm not out of the loop anymore." He swallowed, looking away from her. "You know, I never knew my mom. She died when I was really young. My dad never talks about her much, but sometimes my sisters tell me stories. You kind of remind me of her, or I guess, well . . . what I imagine in my head." He looked back at her. "So even though I don't exactly like the company you keep—I think you can do way better than a leech—I'm gonna stick around."

She grinned at him. This wasn't where she expected the conversation to go. In fact, she was just pleased they were having a conversation at all.

"Besides, my dad won't let you go. I've never done so well in school before."

"About that," Esme began. "Do you think we could find somewhere other than the reservation to meet? The library perhaps?"

"So the leech thinks you need protecting from us, huh?" He scoffed. "That's rich."

Esme rose a delicate brow.

"Okay, Paul was a bad example. We're not all hot-heads."

"Carlisle is just . . . concerned, that's all."

"Well, you can tell the leech to stop worrying, because you're safe on the reservation with us. But if it helps, I have been wanting to test the Rabbit out in town. This will give me an excuse."

Esme grinned. "Deal then?"

Jacob held his hand out and she flinched at how warm he was. "Deal, we'll figure something out, but we're gonna need snacks. A lot of them."

"I'll see what I can do. One more thing . . ."

Jacob raised a brow.

"Can you not call him a leech? At least where I can hear."

"You really love him, huh?"

"Does it seem so unbelievable?"

"I want to say yes. That you shouldn't love a blood-sucker . . . some _thing_ so cold and hard and dangerous, but I think you of all people are incapable of not loving just about everything. Even a monster."

Esme considered the fury that passed through his features as he spoke of the Cold Ones—a hatred that had been passed down through the centuries. She considered the confused tilt of his brow as he tried to fit her and Carlisle into the same equation—one that was built from love. She reached out and laid her hand over his. "I've known monsters in my life, Jacob. And despite what you think, Carlisle isn't one of them."

Jacob stared at the ground. "You never really talk about your life before Forks—where you came from or . . . any of that."

"Because it's a part of my life I don't really want to remember. There's some good, of course. There always is. But I didn't just come to Forks, I ran away from the things that frightened me."

"You were married before, weren't you?"

Esme swallowed hard. She didn't know how he knew, but he wiggled his fingers and showed her.

"When you first came to Forks you still had a line on your finger from the ring. Dad said not to say anything, that it wasn't our business. I thought maybe he had died or something."

"That would have been too easy," she said. "No, his name was Charles. And yes we were married, still are since these things get held up in court, but he wasn't the man I thought he was, and I ran from him and our life together."

"He hurt you, didn't he?"

Esme swallowed hard, unsure of how much she should share with Jacob. He was only a boy after all. And she didn't want to taint his view of the world. But at the same time, he was a child of the supernatural, cursed to live a life of secrets and destiny. If this would help him understand, just this once, that not all monsters came from nightmares, then maybe this was the conversation they were always meant to have.

She squeezed his hand gently. "Charles was a very angry man. It filled him with a kind of rage that could be triggered at a pin drop. For a long time, I was trapped in a cycle with him. We'd fight. He'd hurt me. He'd ask for forgiveness and I'd give it because I believed he would change. I was foolish in my youth, but I thought I loved him, and by the time I realized what was happening, I didn't know how to break the cycle."

"So one day you just up and left?"

"Yes . . . and it brought me to Forks. Back to teaching and to Carlisle and to you."

Jacob let out a long breath, the kind that held the words he still hadn't sorted through in his head.

"I know it's difficult to understand, especially now that there are certain birthrights that colour your perspective, but Carlisle really is the most human man I've ever known. He's kind and gentle and everything Charles wasn't."

"You're making me feel really bad for hating the guy."

Esme laughed. "That wasn't my intention. I just . . . wanted you to understand my side of things."

"I do . . . I think." He furrowed his brow. "But if he's, you know, immortal, and you're not—"

Esme broke away then, looking out into the damp, barren woods. She knew what Jacob was going to ask next and she didn't know how he would handle the answer. Her silence was obviously more telling than she thought.

"So that's it then," he said, almost in disgust. "You're gonna give it all up for him?"

"What would you give up for someone you loved?"

Jacob held his knees, staring hard at the ground. For several long minutes he didn't say anything, just focused on his breathing and Esme could see the struggle inside him. The wolf was obviously triggered by intense emotions. In a way, he reminded her of Carlisle—trying to protect her from what they really were.

"You know they kill people right? I mean, maybe not them . . . but their kind."

"I do."

He blew out a breath between his teeth. "Fine."

"What do you mean fine?"

"I mean, fine, I'll deal with the lee—sorry, the Doc. I'll deal with him because before all this, I didn't really think he was a bad guy. I mean, his kids seemed a little stuck up, which makes more sense now, but he helped a lot of people on the reservation when they went to the hospital. He's a good Doctor, better than what Forks deserves, that's for sure. So as much as I want to hate him, I can't, because he doesn't kill people, he saves them."

"Thank you, Jacob."

"Sure, sure," he muttered, ducking his head. Then he paused, tilting his head, before turning to look east through the trees. "Oh, shit."

Part of her wanted to scold him, but more than that, she was frightened by the look on his face. She couldn't hear what he apparently could hear, but when he rose to his feet, towering over her, and stepped out to shield her from view, her heart began to race.

"Jacob?" she said, casting a wary glance in the direction he was locked on. His back curved as he waited, almost poised to spring.

"It's Paul," he said. "He's patrolling the border. If you can believe, his wolf form is even stupider than his human form. If my sister thinks she's gonna marry him, she's out of her mind. Stay here," he told her. "I'm going to try to head him off before this turns into a repeat of last time."

 _Wolf form_? In all actuality, Esme hadn't really considered what this meant beyond the old legends Jacob had told her.

"Jacob wait!" she called as he tore off into the trees, throwing his shirt over his head. "Be careful!"

He just laughed at her concern, grinning at her full and toothy before he took off again. He was fast. Not as fast as Carlisle by any means, but there was an inhuman speed there, and soon he was gone.

 _Well_ , Esme thought. This talk had been more complicated than she'd imagined, yet given the complexity of the situation and the fact that she was now dealing with, not one, but two supernatural worlds, being abandoned in the woods by a teenage wolf was probably the least of her concerns.

 _Snap._

 _Crack_.

She whipped around suddenly, the hair on the back of her neck standing straight up, and she knew she was in trouble.

There, coming through the trees behind her was a wolf. Not the kind she'd envisioned. No. This animal was massive. Towering at least twice her height, back legs coiled to spring, the wolf shook its grey coat, tufts of fur standing on end. But the most terrifying feature of all was the long, curved canines.

Though her mouth fell open, Esme couldn't find any words. She couldn't even find enough of her voice to scream. She stumbled back, away from the advancing creature, reaching to catch herself as she crashed between baby saplings in her haste. The wolf approached on slow, quiet feet, making no sound except for the terrible growl deep in its belly.

"Paul!"

Esme turned again, this time to see Jacob. He burst through the trees, slick from the wet forest, and panting.

He rolled his eyes at the beast as it snapped its jaws in his direction. "Give me a break. Go finish your patrol!"

The Paul-wolf continued to advance, hackles raised.

"Paul!" Jacob warned, breathing heavily. The grey wolf took one more step and then Jacob sprung, exploding in midair in a frenzy of fur and claws. He launched his giant russet body at the other wolf, both of them tumbling together, snapping and barking.

"Jacob!" she cried, hearing him yelp as Paul grabbed a mouthful of muzzle.

They moved closer, Jake-wolf losing his footing as he stumbled on some thick forest ferns and Esme pulled herself away from the fight, deeper into the woods, where she wouldn't be crushed by some uprooted tree.

She ducked as something went crashing overhead and she recognized the log her and Jacob had been sitting on earlier.

"Esme!"

She looked up. It was Carlisle. He hovered along a single line, moving between the trees against the invisible treaty border.

"Esme, please," he said and for the first time, she heard his voice quiver. "I can't come any closer."

At the sound of his voice, Paul seemed to grow intrigued and he abandoned his fight with Jacob to fight what his ancestors had been changed to defend from. The grey wolf came crashing through the trees behind her and Esme raced towards Carlisle, some rational part of her knowing that right now she was safer on his side of the line.

She fell towards him and he urged her on with frantic words as both wolves raced towards her. When he finally caught her around the waist, he pulled her to him tightly and she crushed her eyes together as the collision with Paul seemed inevitable.

But there was a yelp and a terrible growl. A black wolf had joined the fight and immediately both of the other wolves bent towards him, muzzles down as they whimpered in submission.

Carlisle studied this wolf, ducking his head slightly before he scooped her up and raced away, the trees a blur. She didn't know how, but the thunder of footsteps reached them and between the blur, the outline of a russet wolf took form.

"Wait," she said, touching Carlisle gently on the face.

He slowed immediately and she squirmed out of his arms.

"Esme—"

"It's only Jacob," she said, watching the wolf slink through the trees towards them. He left a wide berth around Carlisle but shuffled over to her slowly, head bent. Her fingers reached out and, eventually, Esme brushed her hand along his snout, fingers deep in thick russet fur. It was remarkable.

Jacob let out a low whine and she could see the remorse in his eyes—so human, so him.

"Esme," Carlisle said again.

Jacob blinked once, his dark eyes so much like Carlisle's—filled with a kind of sorrow and burden she could never understand.

"It's okay," she whispered.

There was a long, piercing howl that echoed through the trees and with a huff, Jacob rose to answer. He was gone in a heartbeat, just another figment of the forest.

She turned around, arms crossed against her chest, and followed Carlisle out of the woods towards her car. She handed him the keys and he got into the driver's seat. She didn't feel like driving right now anyway.

"You haven't said anything," she whispered after a few minutes of silence.

"I don't know what there is to say. You know how I feel about you being there. This is exactly what I had feared." He thumbed the steering wheel, beating out a nervous tick. "Today I was here to protect you. What if next time I'm not?"

His face was so broken, so devastated, that she couldn't even argue with him. Not anymore. She didn't want to give Jacob up and she couldn't bear to hurt Carlisle anymore. She was at a loss. They both were apparently.

She slept in her own bed that night.

Carlisle had to work anyway, and perhaps they both needed some space. Instead of reaching a compromise, the La Push situation had become more complicated. The fight between Jacob and Paul had only confirmed Carlisle's suspicions. By all accounts, the reservation was far too dangerous for her. She couldn't even deny that after what had just happened, and still she couldn't cut Jacob out.

She didn't know how to align these two warring parts of her life. From where she stood, both sides would gladly be rid of the other, only she continued to tangle them up, dragging them both closer and closer to the invisible treaty line they had drawn. After a few hours, Esme abandoned hope of finding a solution and went to bed. But even her dreams were dark, just a distant howl echoing as she slept.

* * *

 **A/N** : Soooo . . . hello. I hope you're enjoying the story and if you've read this far and commented or followed, just know I seriously appreciate the support for this story and you've helped foster my muse. I'm somewhat proud to say we're coming to the end - probably only about 5 or 6 more chapters. Considering I have a history of abandoning stories right when they get good, this might be one of the lucky ones that actually has a conclusion. And speaking of a conclusion, this story is about to get hit with all the plot I've been lazily carrying along, so it's going to just go downhill for poor Esme from here, but I do promise that it WILL have a happy ending. Which is fair I suppose, seeing as I don't think the transition into a vampire really ever occurs happily (even Bella's canon change was a mess). Anywho, here's a heads up for the angst and drama and whatever else you might feel. Just remember . . . they live happily ever after :D


	33. Chapter 33

By the time school finished the next day, Esme was still no closer to finding a resolution to her supernatural problem, and that sad reality had only served to give her a headache. As she headed out to her car, the school parking lot was pathetically empty. Her lone vehicle was the only one keeping the lot alive, but a familiar face made her smile.

"Jacob?"

"Hey, Esme."

He leaned against the front end of her car, arms crossed while he waited. His muscles bulged as he adjusted his position, making the car dip.

"This is a surprise," she said, popping the trunk and tossing her bag inside. He followed her around the car. "Is everything okay?"

"Sure, sure. I was hoping we could talk, actually."

"Of course. Out here?"

He gestured off with a lazy wave of his hand. "We could take a quick spin of the field if you want."

"Jacob, you're barely wearing shoes."

"It's okay. I don't get cold anymore."

"Of course you don't." She cocked her head. "Come on."

They wandered around the field that bordered the gym. A mix of slush and mud coated the ground. Jacob stayed close, and despite the cool temperature, Esme was pleasantly warm next to him.

"Is the Doc mad?" he asked suddenly.

Esme hadn't expected this and tried to put everything together in a way he might understand. "He's . . . I guess so, in a way. But I think he's more hurt."

"Why hurt?"

"Because I keep putting him through this. The treaty on your land prevents him from being able to reach me. And he's convinced something terrible might happen to me. I'm afraid the display in the woods only confirmed his fears. He keeps trying to protect me and I'm making it very difficult for him."

"Oh, yeah. I guess that would suck."

Esme laughed a little. All those thoughts, summed up by a sixteen-year-old kid—indeed, that would suck. It didn't matter how tall or muscular or furry Jacob got. He'd always be that goofy, fun-loving boy that had helped welcome her to Forks.

"You know," he said, pulling her focus back, "the whole point of the wolves was to protect our people. Protect human life. I don't think Paul got the memo."

"That's a big responsibility," she said diplomatically. It was true, she wasn't exactly fond of Paul from what she'd experienced so far, but she did have an appreciation for the weight he now carried with him. "And he's still very young."

"And stupid and volatile and has some anger management issues," Jacob added. "Sam's working on it with him, though."

"Sam's your pack leader, right?"

"Yeah, and he gets it. The anger. For a long time, he was the only one who'd transformed and he didn't know what was going on. One day he got angry and hurt the girl he loves—Emily. She still has the scars. But she loves him anyway." He picked up a loose rock and threw it into the field. "Guess I've got nothing to stand on calling the Doc or the rest of them dangerous. At least until Paul gets his act together."

"You've been thinking about this a lot, haven't you?"

"Yeah. The way the Doc looked at us in the woods, like we were the threat to you. It just, it made me realize that we're not these perfect protectors of humanity, you know? It's complicated."

"It really is," Esme sighed.

"I figure the Doc probably doesn't want you to see us anymore."

She hesitated. "He doesn't get to decide that."

"But he'll be angry with you, won't he?"

"Not angry exactly, just . . . worried."

"I don't want you two to fight because of us."

"Some things are worth fighting for, Jacob. Don't worry, I'll sort it out with Carlisle . . ." she sighed again. "Eventually."

The corners of his lips quirked but he still looked sad. "I really am sorry, Esme. I didn't mean to cause all this drama."

"It wasn't you, Jacob." They had reached her car again. "Do you need a ride home?"

"Are you kidding?" he almost squealed. "The Doc will lock you up and never let you out again."

"I'm not seeing Carlisle tonight. He's working and then I think he needs some space."

"Ah," Jacob winced. "Don't do that."

"What?"

"The space thing. This is on me. I knew someone was running border patrol. I should have known better than to take you into the woods. It's my fault you and the Doc are fighting."

"Adults fight, Jacob. Sometimes they just have to work things out. Don't worry, it'll pass."

"When?"

"I'm not sure."

"And when can I see you again?" he wondered. "Dad thinks my grades are starting to slip."

"I'm not sure about that either." She managed a smile. "But not long, hopefully. Now go do your homework."

"It's finished," he answered automatically and she wondered how many times a week he said those words to Billy.

"That's a lie if I ever heard one."

Jacob grinned. "Sure. Sure. I'll see you later then."

Esme waved and got in her car. She watched Jacob race across the field. He turned back once, to look at her, just before diving into the cover of the trees.

As she watched, the passenger door popped open, then the back, letting in a chilly gust of air, and suddenly her car was full of Cullen's—Alice in the front and Jasper and Edward in the back.

"I thought he'd never leave," Alice quipped. She wrinkled her nose. "You smell like wet dog."

"Hello to you, too," Esme said. She'd missed having the Cullen's in her classes. The start of the new term had taken them all out of English, so she'd settled herself with having to see them after school and on weekends. To offset this (and probably to keep an eye on her for Carlisle), they'd started popping up unannounced during the course of the day, which was probably why she didn't startle at their sudden appearance. "How was your day?"

"I convinced Jasper to switch into Fashion with me and he's still deciding whether or not he wants to tackle an apron or a book bag for the first assignment."

"I could always give the apron to Bella," Jasper said.

The three of them were grinning and Esme got the distinct impression that there was more to this story. This was probably some sort of bet that Jasper had lost because Esme knew for a fact that he'd much rather be sitting through world history or philosophy again, despite how much he loved Alice.

"That's—" She honestly didn't even know what to say. She knew they only wanted to make her smile, but just being around them reminded her of Carlisle which brought up the whole wolf issue all over again. Seeing Jacob just now had only made things harder. Not only did she not know when she'd be able to see him again, but he was blaming himself for what happened. She sighed, catching Edward's eyes in the mirror. It was bad enough he could hear everything, she didn't need to see it confirmed on his face.

"What did the dog want anyway?" Alice asked.

"Please don't call him that; his name is Jacob."

"Jacob then," Alice corrected.

"It was nothing." She avoided looking at Edward again. "He was just stopping by to say hi."

"Carlisle will be very interested to know that he's making social calls into town now."

"There's nothing stating that he can't come here."

"No, but the treaty worked so well because they kept to the reservation. Because of Carlisle's job, the treaty was arranged, giving us access to the town. If we begin interacting in this common space, who knows what will happen."

"Nothing will happen," Esme said emphatically. "Because there's no reason for it."

"Well, _I_ certainly couldn't tell you. I can't see anything where the wolves are involved. It's quite infuriating."

Esme smiled at her. "Yes, well, I suppose you're not all here because you needed a ride?"

"Of course not. You know, I try not to intervene when it's not my business," Alice began, causing Edward to snort. "But you're my business and so is Carlisle, which suggests that some mild prodding is in order."

"I'm not following."

"I know you aren't planning to come over tonight and that is exactly what Carlisle doesn't need. He misses you when you aren't there. I know things are stressful between you two, but nothing will be sorted out by avoiding each other. Besides, tell me you're not miserable when he's not around?" Alice stared at her, both brows arched and questioning. "Let us take you back to our place?"

Esme shook her head slowly. "Let me guess. If I try to start my car it will conveniently not start?"

"That's a good guess," Edward said, his smile very telling.

"I can't believe you," she said. Despite their plotting, she could see right through them and this involuntary invitation they had just extended.

"You know, I would never do that to you, Esme," Alice said.

"Neither would I," Edward agreed. "Rosalie on the other hand. Well—"

"You can stop with the emotions Jasper," Esme finally sighed. "I'm coming over."

The corner of his mouth lifted, but Jasper admitted to nothing. "We're parked around the corner. I'll be right back."

As he disappeared, Esme took her keys out of the ignition and opened her door. "This better be fixed by the time school's done tomorrow," she said. "Whatever it is Rosalie did."

Alice clapped her hands together, throwing her arms around Esme in the parking lot. "You'll be glad you came over tonight; trust me."

* * *

It was much later and Esme was, indeed, very glad that she had come over. The first thing Carlisle had done upon coming home from work was envelop her in his arms and it was as if the stress of the day had melted away. There were still no answers, but that didn't matter when his hands were looped around her waist as they cuddled together on the sofa.

It had been a night of conversations. The kids had stuck close and Esme had a feeling that they were running interference. If they kept up a running commentary, there would be no time for her and Carlisle to actually get into another heated conversation over La Push, and so far it was working.

Leave it to Emmett to have everyone in stitches.

It was just about nearing time for her to be leaving if she was going to get some sleep before work tomorrow, when Carlisle bent close and whispered, "Stay?"

She turned her face to his and he kissed her gently, long and lazy-like, putting a lot of unsaid things into it.

"Please," he added and she smiled against his lips.

Their tender moment was shattered by the musical sounds of Edward as his gentle piano chords came to a halting stop. Then he burst out laughing, startling almost everyone in the room. "There's a teenage wolf at the door," he announced, getting up to look out the large glass windows that overlooked the property.

"Jacob?" Esme asked.

"How'd he do that?" Alice said.

Edward turned to her. "You really can't see them?"

"Apparently not."

There was a knock and Edward smirked. "I think it's for you, Carlisle."

Esme sat up straight, her wide eyes looking from Carlisle to the door. The rest of the Cullen's wore varying expressions: some smug, others disgusted or intrigued. Emmett looked like he might start a betting pool on whether or not Carlisle's legendary patience would last for whatever was about to happen.

"Wait," she said, but Carlisle pressed a hand to her knee, effectively locking her in place.

"Just give me a minute," he requested.

He stood and crossed the room, opening the front door. There were murmured words, which everyone but her could obviously hear. Then Carlisle stepped outside and closed the door behind him. In the dying light, Esme could just make out their figures moving slowly across the yard.

Jacob was just as tall as Carlisle now, but there was still something very young and vulnerable about him.

"It's okay, Esme," Edward said. "They're just talking."

"About what? Tell me, please."

"The treaty. The border. You. A lot of you."

She frowned. "That's not helping."

The Cullen's exchanged looks with each other. Parts of what they heard obviously peaked their interest. Finally, Jacob left, disappearing into the forest bordering the property, and Carlisle returned to the house at a very human pace.

Edward stood, his head tilted slightly, perhaps gauging the tone of Carlisle's thoughts. Then he held his hand out for Bella. "I think we have some homework to attend to."

It was subtle but noticed as all of the Cullen's quietly slipped away. Esme stared at the door from her lonely spot on the couch, anticipating the moment of Carlisle's return. He didn't look angry as he entered, nor did his eyes crease in that confusion that had been ever-present lately.

"Breathe, love," he said as he came to her, a smile breaking across his face. "Everything is alright."

She let go of the air that had been trapped in her lungs, scrambling across the sofa towards him. "What happened?"

Carlisle shook his head gently. "He's a surprisingly insightful child." He tucked her hair behind her ear. "And he cares for you a great deal."

"And?"

"He came to apologize for putting you in danger and he agrees that perhaps we could be more accommodating so that neither party feels threatened. So we've come to a compromise. Jacob and his friends have agreed to meet you at the library to continue your study sessions, though he would prefer we were not on premise during these times." He took a strand of her hair and twisted it around his finger. "But . . . the library is in town. There's no treaty stopping me from reaching you should something happen, so I think it's a good start."

In a rush of elation, Esme launched herself at him. As he caught her, he moved with her momentum so as not to hurt her. Launching herself at Carlisle was very much like launching herself at a brick wall, but he fell back as he caught her and they landed together on the sofa with Esme sprawled on top of him.

She buried her head in the crook of his neck, just breathing in his scent.

"Why are crying, love?"

She sniffed a little, drying her eyes with her shirt sleeve. The tension that had been building these past weeks had been starting to suffocate her. Only now did it feel like she was free again.

"I didn't mean for this to upset you so much," he said sincerely. "I was struggling these past weeks with this fear and jealousy and these . . . instincts I have to protect you—I'm still learning how to work through them. I'm sorry you've been hurting." His lips traced the shell of her ear. "Can you forgive me?"

She nodded against his chest. "Of course."

"That felt far too easy, but I'll take it. And I'll work very hard to make up for it."

"There's nothing to make up for," she promised. She was just happy that the war that seemed to be brewing between the Cullen's and La Push had all but dissolved. She kissed him until she was dizzy and then some more. Finally, she had to pull away because he began to chuckle.

"What's so funny?" she wondered.

Carlisle tucked his arm around her and propped his hand behind his head. "Jacob told me that I, and I quote, had to supply the snacks because I make the big bucks."

Esme chuckled along with him and he pulled her against his chest, rocking back and forth. For the first time in weeks, Esme felt something like peace. "He mentioned snacks to me, too. Do you think that's something to do with the change?"

"Well, from a physiological perspective, he's especially warm, almost like a fever. If he's a standard for the rest of the pack, then I assume, due to that and the incredible rate of growth, their metabolisms are unparalleled. With that in mind, they would need to consume thousands of calories every day." He brushed his hand along her arm, tickling her skin. "Truth be told, I'd love to study them, to see how they compare to human DNA. Even to that of a vampire."

"Look at you." She grinned at him. "Getting all excited."

"Well, it's all thanks to you, love. You have a big heart and love the things you shouldn't. Even the dangerous things."

"I know." Esme crawled up his chest and pressed her lips to his again. "Does that include you?"

Carlisle flipped them so quickly she squealed, wrapping her arms around his neck and laughing as he peppered kisses below her jaw. "Perhaps."

He lowered himself against her and she gasped, feeling her heart thud against her chest. For a moment it was the only thing she could feel, the singular focus in her world.

"Is this okay?" he whispered close to her ear and she was wrenched from her haze.

His body pressed hers into the sofa, his weight firm, though not suffocating. She could feel the strength of his body against hers and to her surprise, it was not fear or anxiety that built in her gut, but a thrill.

"Yes," she said, turning her head to skim her lips against his face.

He moved his head to catch her lips and their kiss was long and slow. Carlisle ran his tongue across her lower lip and she shuddered.

Her hands roamed over his broad shoulders, trailing down from the feathery light hair at the bottom his neck, down his spine and across the planes of muscle beneath his now wrinkled shirt.

God, she wanted him. The fear she'd been battling for so long, the anxiety, seemed to melt away at that moment. It wasn't gone. She was acutely aware of its presence in the back of her mind, though she'd come to think that it would always be there. Never would there be a time when she didn't consider how terrified this could make her.

But right now, with Carlisle, she wasn't afraid. She was exhilarated.

That was until the world came crashing back down as Emmett leaned over the banister upstairs and hollered, "Hey lovebirds, get a room!"

* * *

 **A/N:** If you can't tell, Emmett is probably my favourite character next to Carlisle and Esme :)


	34. Chapter 34

As life continued over the next several weeks, Esme considered herself to be living out the plot of some epic fantasy novel as she spent her nights with vampires and her afternoons at the library tutoring children that could phase into giant wolves at will.

That sudden realization made her grin as she drove home after another session with the boys. They'd started bringing Seth along now that he'd also officially joined the pack. That boy had more questions about vampires than Esme thought possible and she secretly thought that he only showed up in the hopes of running into Carlisle outside the building.

No such luck though.

So far Carlisle had kept to his end of the deal, steering clear of the building when Jacob and his friends were with her, though she always noted a familiar car at the end of the street on tutoring nights.

As much as she'd found it difficult to navigate these two supernatural worlds, they had somehow come together, and now she couldn't imagine anything different. When she first came to Forks, she wanted a fresh start, though she'd never envisioned it quite like this.

She stopped by her apartment after her tutoring session with the boys and swapped out some of her lesson plans for the upcoming week. It was Friday and that meant that she planned to spend the next two days in the company of the Cullen's.

Even now she could hear her phone buzzing from the counter, most likely Alice asking about some extravagant shopping trip idea. Esme's wardrobe had expanded considerably since she began accompanying Alice on these trips.

When the buzzing continued, Esme snatched her phone off the counter, slipping it between her shoulder and her ear as she stuffed files into her bag, half expecting to hear the musical voices of Carlisle or one of his family members.

"Esme?"

She gasped into the phone and held her breath. The papers she'd been holding fluttered to the floor. For a long time, there was just silence between them.

"Hello, Essy," Charles said smoothly, immediately throwing her back into what felt like another lifetime. "I thought I'd catch you in the afternoon. I expect you're teaching again of some sort."

"How did you get this number?" she asked, her throat suddenly parched. She'd been so careful. Done everything right. So how? Her chest constricted as she dry sobbed.

"You know, you make a lot of phone calls to Sarah. And it's really not that hard to buy up phone records for a price."

"What do you want?" she whispered.

"It's nice to hear your voice again. You know, it hurt when you left. It hurt when some man delivered a bunch of divorce papers to my desk for the whole office to see." His voice was rising. He blew out a breath. "But the real kicker was when you wouldn't even come back to see me. I mean, six years of marriage and that's it? We're done because you say so?"

"Charles—" She backed into the couch, her legs collapsing beneath her.

"I don't think so, Essy. Nope . . . not like this."

Tears pooled in the corners of her eyes.

"We need to talk. Somewhere nice. Somewhere private. Just the two of us. Where it's green and everybody knows everybody. You know, one of those ass-backwards towns that have a two-man police department cause nothing bad ever happens."

Esme hung up the phone.

She didn't know for sure that he knew where she was. Her phone was bought in a different state so that even if he tracked down her number he wouldn't be able to find her. At least, that had been her hope, but Charles was devious when he wanted to be. And he usually got what he wanted.

She rubbed her face with her hands, rocking on the couch. Damn that man.

* * *

The sun had made a sudden appearance across the afternoon sky and Edward and his family ducked inside out of habit and not necessity. For the most part, they were safe on their land. Not once had someone from town ever ventured down the long, elusive Cullen driveway. Esme had been the very first human here in a long time.

"Alice?" Jasper called and Edward turned to see her, frozen and glassy-eyed in the middle of the front lawn. Light beaded along her skin and reflected in tiny crystals of rainbow.

Edward narrowed his eyes, catching the tail end of something in her thoughts. Many people assumed that he merely watched Alice's visions the way one might a film. But there was a complexity to it that he couldn't explain. Not only did he see the flashes of future that Alice did, but he also tapped into the running commentary that filtered through Alice's mind as she processed this.

To the outside world, Alice looked completely consumed by her visions. But there was a lot that happened in the span of those few seconds and it often took them both to sort through it.

"Something has happened," she said, alert once more as she raced towards the house. "I think we should call, Carlisle."

"He has a surgery this afternoon," Bella reminded them.

Alice looked at Edward for a long moment, replaying what she had seen, more defined now that she had time to understand it.

Edward nodded firmly. "I'll call him now."

* * *

Esme wondered what it was about bad habits that made it so easy to fall back into a routine. Clearly, as defined, they weren't good for you, and yet, it was somehow where she had ended up after the phone call with Charles.

She didn't remember exactly how she'd gotten to the convenience store at the end of the block. Clearly, she'd driven, that much was obvious, but the time after grabbing her car keys until now, was oddly blank. She didn't even remember buying the pack of cigarettes or the little blue lighter she now ran between her thumb and forefinger, but she had.

The puff of smoke was hot and acidic and burned going down, and as bad as it was, that familiarity was comforting. A kind of feeling that she craved right now. She just needed something to calm her nerves and as much as she hated to admit it, this used to be it. When she was younger . . . when she made all her bad decisions—Charles included.

She thought she'd kicked the habit. Thought she'd gotten better at coping with the emotions he stirred up in her, but apparently not. She'd fallen right back into old patterns and for that, she hated Charles even more.

A tear dropped off her chin as the first cigarette died between her fingers, the white filter puffed yellow. She lit up a second cigarette, inhaling through shaky fingers.

There were wet tracks down her cheeks and no matter how many times she wiped at her face, nothing helped. Her throat grew thick and the strangled sobs that escaped her mouth sounded even more pathetic. But still, she sobbed, her head bent against the steering wheel.

It felt like an eternity later, though it may have been seconds before a knock on the door made her jump.

It was Carlisle.

She pressed her hand to her eyes, massaging out the ache, resting her other hand and the cigarette against the steering wheel.

"Esme, please don't make me break the door handle."

Despite being so close, his words seemed distant, and the only thing she could hear was the muted buzz of blood pounding in her ears as she cried. But then something clicked beside her and she felt a gust of wind as the door gave way to Carlisle's gentle tug. He supported it with both hands to avoid shattering the window as the lock gave way.

He eyed the cigarette first, then her shaking hands, before settling on her face. Her lip quivered and she couldn't get it to stop.

He wrapped his hand gently around hers where it stuck to the steering wheel and deftly, he plucked the cigarette from her hand, tossing it to the ground.

"These will kill you," he said gently. "And I won't lose you to cigarettes of all things."

"Oh, Carlisle," she whispered, wiping at her eyes with her sleeves. He crouched beside the car and she fell into his arms, tumbling off the seat and into a limp puddle in his embrace. He held her tight, cradling her the way one might a child, one hand wrapped around her, the other stroking her hair.

"Come on," he whispered, "I'll take you home."

* * *

There weren't many other things that calmed her when she got like this, but over the years, the sound of Sarah's voice had become one of them. There was always a gentle understanding there, born of years of friendship. Sarah had begged her to leave Charles over and over again and when Esme couldn't find it in herself to escape the cycle, Sarah had always been there for her. She hadn't walked away from the fight, no matter how exhausting it got.

For that Esme could never thank her enough. It had been a long time since they'd had one of these conversations, but Sarah fell into that role as she always had.

"Are you smoking again?"

Esme held her breath. She avoided looking through the balcony door. Carlisle was seated on her couch, pretending to read one of his medical journals. She fingered the pack of cigarettes.

"No," she said, taking a shaky breath of smoky air.

"You don't have to lie, Es. I can hear you puffing on it." Sarah went quiet. "He really scared you, didn't he?"

"I think that's all he wanted to do." She felt the tears fall off her chin and took another shaky breath, catching the stray tears with the edges of her fingers. "Just scare me."

"What are you going to do?"

"Take out a restraining order, I guess. I don't know; what else do you do about psychopathic ex's?" She covered her face with her free hand and sobbed. It was so long the cigarette in her other hand burnt out.

"Esme, you can come here, you know that right?"

"I know, but Charles knows where you are, too. That would be one of the first places he would have looked for me. I can't come back there. Not now."

"If I ever see that man again I am going to kill him myself." Sarah huffed. "Is Carlisle there?"

"Yes."

"Do me a favour and stay with him for a while. Until this blows over."

"Okay."

"And you call me. Day or night. I'll be on a plane to you, got it?"

"Okay."

"I love you, Esme."

"Love you too."

"Try to get some sleep, alright. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Bye."

Esme hung up the phone and fingered the cigarette pack. She'd only smoked half. This was one of her very worst coping mechanisms. She'd only ever lit up when things were really bad with Charles. When it was beyond what even she thought she could handle. The sound of his voice after this long had sent her on a spiral. And like the thick smoke that now sat in her lungs, he was a poison in her life. One that she had let infect her for too long. She tucked the lighter back into the pack and went inside.

Carlisle looked up, abandoning his journal as soon as the door opened. She hadn't been able to explain it to him as he brought her home; she'd been too shaken still. But he'd heard everything as she relayed it to Sarah. She moved to stand in front of him and, with a deep breath, handed him the cigarettes. This was her giving in, not giving up. This was her asking for help because she didn't know how to do this by herself. Not anymore.

As his fingers brushed hers, she trembled, breaking down into the silent sobs she so often cried, alone and broken, when Charles was angry.

The cries got caught up in her throat and she brought her hands up to cover her face. The day had completely drained her and as she collapsed into Carlisle, he tucked her tightly against him, resting his chin on the top of her head.

"You don't have to do this alone."

She nodded against him.

"We're going to fix this, Esme. I promise."

* * *

The Cullen residence was unusually quiet, even for a bunch of vampires.

There was a pause in the dining room as everyone listened to Esme move around upstairs. Alice imagined her going through the motions: brushing out her hair, climbing into a pair of pyjamas, and clinging tightly to a pillow as she waited on the giant king size bed for Carlisle to return. She imagined Esme curled up in a ball, looking decidedly small and all too delicate as she fought off the urge to cry again.

When they'd arrived, Alice had already broken the news to the family. Although she had not seen the full extent of the phone call between Charles and Esme, she'd caught the aftermath and Carlisle's intervention. Between her vision and what Edward had gleaned from their memories, the family now had a vague idea of what exactly had happened.

Despite being a reason to call a family meeting, no one had the patience to act on pretence, so they abandoned their usual spots around the dining room table. Even Carlisle couldn't bring himself to sit, instead pacing between the head of the table and the glass door that overlooked the back of their property.

Every so often his gaze travelled upwards and his face fell into more despair.

"Again, I'm going to say it," Rosalie said. "Let's just kill the bastard."

She'd perched herself on top of the old, unused china cabinet beside Bella.

"Agreed," Emmett said, flexing his fists. "We can be done with this by tomorrow."

"Hold on, Bonnie and Clyde," Bella said. "This isn't some 1950's disappearance that can be covered up by burying the body under a tree. Esme has been in contact with him now. There's evidence of that. They've been communicating through the lawyer for months. If he disappears, not only does Esme have the motive, but she'll be the first one the cops come after. Which drags us all into this. The last thing we need is the police involved. That makes headlines. Headlines attract the Volturi."

"She's right," Jasper said. "As long as the legal stuff still isn't settled, it's a risk."

"We could disappear as soon as it's done," Rosalie argued. "For a long time if we have to. If there is no one to talk to, the investigation dies."

"Carlisle!"

Alice looked suddenly to where Carlisle stood, his head cradled in his hand. He rubbed it over his face, meeting Edward's eyes across the room. "Son, please afford me the privacy of pretending you can't hear every thought inside my head. At least this once."

There was a gentle sob from upstairs and Carlisle excused himself without words.

"What was it?" Alice wondered after a beat.

Edward stared at the spot where Carlisle had disappeared. "He was considering it," he said gently, tilting his head, almost as if he'd never contemplated that Carlisle was no more capable of curtailing those base human emotions than the rest of them.

"He's not infallible," Alice said. "Of course he would consider what Rosalie wants to do. Which of us wouldn't when it came to protecting the person we love?"

Edward considered her for a long moment, no doubt playing around inside her head. She gave him a pointed look and he conceded. "I've never heard him think so cruelly of a human before. It shocked me. That's all."

"Well, get over it," Rosalie snapped. "As soon as Carlisle gives the word, we're going to take care of this."

"There's no decision yet," Alice informed them all. "And when he has time to clear his head, I doubt it will be the one you're hoping for, Rose."

"One can hope," she muttered, walking away, Emmett trailing after her with a dangerous grin.

"Where are you going?" Alice asked, watching Jasper follow them.

"To prepare to clean up their mess," he sighed. "Bella's not wrong. This will stir up attention that none of us are ready to deal with. We need to be ready to run."

With that Jasper and Bella left the dining room.

"And where do you stand?" Alice asked Edward. It was just the two of them now, and though he could easily see where her mind rested, she did not have the same inclination to his thoughts. Only his decisions.

"I stand with Carlisle," Edward answered carefully. "Whatever he may decide."

"But? I sense some hesitation there."

"But . . . I do think Rosalie has a point—not that I think killing him is the right step, only that some sort of intervention is going to be required, and we both know that Carlisle tends to fall on the passive side of things. If he talks himself out of his rage . . . I just . . . I'm not sure leaving it is the right decision either. He loves Esme very much. I can't imagine what it would be like for him if something were to happen to her. So we need to make sure nothing does and if that means keeping track of the guy, then we need to." He eyed her pointedly.

"Edward, you know very well I struggle to pick up random futures, especially for a human that I've never even met. Unless he deliberately decides to come to see her or interact with one of us, I won't see him. And considering he shouldn't know about us at all, I doubt I'll be any help."

"Well, you're the best we have," Edward said. "Just keep a close eye."

"I always do."

Edward smiled, though it was sad and resigned. "I know."

"Love?" Carlisle called gently as he entered the room.

* * *

She could feel the shift in the bed as he crawled up behind her, tucking his arm over her body and pulling her against his chest. She'd finally run out of tears. Both the fear and frustration had seeped out of her and now all she felt was exhaustion.

And at the back of her mind, where thoughts were still vaguely forming, there was the tiniest sliver of indignation. How dare Charles even think he could still do this to her? How dare he think he had the right? She was not the same woman who had run from him all those months ago.

She was not even the same woman she was yesterday. Every day she reclaimed a little more of her life. Every day she became more of the person she'd always wanted to be. Charles was mistaken if he thought he was going to take the happiness she'd found away from her. She knew these next steps were not going to be easy, but she'd been serious when she'd asked Carlisle for help.

However, she was going to do this the right way. Knowing his family, they were probably already plotting Charles' murder, and though some wicked part of her thought he deserved it, she could never bear to know his blood was on their hands. Any of them. No matter how well-meaning their intentions were. She would not let them become what they worked so hard not to be.

No, tomorrow she would call the police. She would take out a restraining order. And she was changing her damn phone number. To hell with Charles. No, she wasn't afraid anymore, now she was just mad. But also tired. So she pushed her overactive thoughts to the back of her mind and resolved to deal with everything in the morning. She'd get through this. With Carlisle and the others, Charles and his threats were just that—empty.

She dried her eyes on the comforter and rolled over, inhaling deeply against Carlisle's chest. The warm scent calmed her greatly and she sighed into the kiss he pressed against her lips. "Stay with me?"

"Always," he promised.

That was good enough for tonight. Tomorrow she'd have him promise _not_ to kill Charles for her.


	35. Chapter 35

As the weeks went by, Esme began to forget about her phone call with Charles. In some ways, it was as if it never occurred at all. Before, when something like this happened, it had disrupted her entire life. But now she had a community—a job and a family that loved her—and as much as they'd wanted to deal with Charles in a way that made her shiver, in the end, they'd let her do things the right way.

She'd filed for a restraining order, a step she should have taken a long time ago. And once it was done, she breathed a sigh of relief. Walking out of the courthouse that day, she was amazed at how similar everything felt. Yes, the phone call with Charles had terrified her, but only in that moment.

She still went to work. Still tutored Jacob and his friends. Carlisle still picked her up, still spent nights tucked in bed beside her. She still spent evenings and weekends with the Cullen's. She still smiled. She still laughed.

It was that—the smiling—that made her realize just how far she had come from Charles. How much of her life she'd really left behind. When she ran away all those months ago, she'd been looking for a fresh start. A quiet place where no one knew her. Where she could blend in. Be invisible.

And instead, she'd built herself a new life. One that she wasn't willing to run away from. That realization had made her strong. She wasn't willing to give up what she had now. And if that meant that she had to go back and fight Charles in court, then that's what she would do.

At least, that's what she'd decided until she returned home to her apartment one afternoon to pick up some clothes.

Carlisle had met her there after his shift, bringing up her mail with him.

He handed her the usual junk mail and flyers, but also a large brown envelope that had been stamped with a familiar seal.

"What is it?" he asked as she stood from the couch, pacing back and forth as she read through the package contents. At one point, he caught her by the arms, stopping her in place. She stared at him with wide eyes, a silent 'O' forming her lips. Before she could answer, she went to her laptop, bringing up her emails. It only took her a moment to find it.

"He signed them," she gasped, reading through the email from the lawyer. "The divorce papers. Charles signed them!"

Carlisle appeared behind her, reading far quicker than she ever could. "That's wonderful news, love!"

"All I have to do is finish the paperwork and scan them back. Maybe . . ." She turned around to face him. "Do you think it was the restraining order?"

Carlisle shrugged. "Maybe it scared him enough."

It might have been, Esme thought. Charles was not used to her fighting back, in any form of the word. But regardless, what this really meant was that she was free. After all this time and stress and money, she could dissolve the last ties that remained between them.

Happy tears pooled in her eyes and Carlisle crushed her to his chest in a hug that almost took her breath away.

"Thank you," she whispered. "For being here."

"Always," he murmured against the top of her head. "I think this calls for celebration. What would you like to do?"

Esme inhaled, giddy with relief and his sweet scent. "I just want to sign these papers and email them off."

"That I can make happen. And then what?"

She sighed, looking up at him with a beaming smile. "Nothing. I just want to spend tonight with you."

He kissed her then, cradling her face in his hands. His lips brushed against hers, firm but gentle. Then his tongue moved against hers, becoming more adventurous the longer they kissed. It was a freeing kind of kiss. And yet familiar. A kiss that said _I've been here with you_ and _I'm not going anywhere_. Not ever. As long as this existence lasted.

Esme nudged him with her hands, pushing him towards the couch, and despite the fact he was immovable in most cases, he yielded to her easily. He sat back, catching her hips as he went and she climbed into his lap, almost without breaking the kiss.

His fingers tickled the skin around her waist and she gasped as his lips trailed down her neck, hovering by the hollow at the base of her throat. Her heart sped up and she wondered if he was tempted at all. If the thrum of blood through her veins ever called to him the way it did the others. If she ever made him lose his focus enough to be drawn in by her scent.

His eyes were electric when she caught his face in her hands, laying her forehead against his. There had never been any words about what Charles meant in terms of their relationship, but the dissolution of her marriage to him meant something for them. She could feel it and so could Carlisle. It meant possibilities. Yes, they'd already talked about her becoming a vampire and there really wasn't anything more permanent than that, but there were parts of Carlisle that were still old-fashioned, and this new freedom meant that maybe, someday, she would be his wife.

And though she wasn't sure she was ready to make that leap today, she already knew what her answer would be when she asked.

His thumbs brushed against her hips in small circles and she wrapped her arms around his neck. "I'm sure Bella has food waiting," he said.

"It can wait," Esme replied. "At least a little bit longer."

She leaned in, capturing his lips once more, and it was a long time before they spoke again.

* * *

By the early evening, Esme had made herself quite comfortable at the Cullen's home. She was lying on the couch, her feet in Carlisle's lap, with one of Bella's many books open against her stomach. Carlisle's thumb made deft strokes around her ankle and the motion was already threatening to put her to sleep.

The other Cullen's strolled in and out of the room, sometimes conversing with Carlisle, sometimes engaging in a game of chess. And sometimes Edward would sit down at his bench and dazzle her on the piano.

He had been working on something lately—an inspired piece he had said—and every time she heard it, the melody sounded even more beautiful.

"Why are there more wolfy children on the lawn?" Emmett asked suddenly. His grin was wide, the light bouncing off his teeth. "Is this going to be a thing? Should I start an interspecies football league?"

Esme blinked hard and looked up from her reading as Carlisle lifted her feet from his lap and stood.

"That's Quil and Embry," Esme said, tilting her head to see around Emmett's broad frame. "Jacob's friends."

She got up and moved to the door, but Carlisle stepped in front of her suddenly—an instinct most likely. She gave him a patient look, but let him lead the way to the porch outside. She hugged herself as the wind whipped around her.

Embry and Quil approached at a run. They wore only ripped shorts and Esme had to guess that they'd made this journey mostly in wolf form.

They skidded to a halt a good distance from the porch. The rest of the Cullen's had formed up inside and Esme watched as the two boys sized each of them up. When they were done, they looked to her and Esme saw not fear, but frenzy.

"Jacob's been in an accident!" Embry said without preamble. "He needs help."

They looked to Carlisle then and without words, a conversation seemed to be had between them. They certainly would never have dared to cross paths like this before, so it had to be bad, and they required the help of a doctor. One that would not balk at the temperature of Jacob's skin or any of his other strange qualities.

Embry looked at her then, his eyes wide and pleading. It was clear they weren't sure Carlisle would help them of his own free will, but they were certain he would do it for _her_. So what they really needed was her help, despite the fact that Carlisle was the most compassionate person she had ever met.

She reached out and touched his wrist with her fingertips and immediately he wrapped his fingers around her hand.

"Can you help him?" she wondered.

"I'll try my very best." He regarded the boys. "Let me get my bag."

Quil nodded. "We'll escort you across the border."

In a flash, Carlisle was gone and back, black bag in hand. He pressed a kiss to her forehead. "It'll be faster if I run."

"Go," she said, already pushing him towards the stairs. "Do what you can for Jacob. I'll meet you there."

He jumped over the banister then, landing easily on the icy grass. The boys had transformed in the moments it took them to speak, and two large wolves now stood in the middle of the lawn, towering over Carlisle.

It was a strange sight, but Esme gave it little thought at that moment, already heading back inside to retrieve her keys and her coat.

"Take Carlisle's car," Alice said, handing her a different set of keys. "Yours is iced up." She slipped away and returned with something else. It was a case packaged with small medication bottles. "And this. I'm not sure exactly why, that part's still fuzzy, but I have a feeling Carlisle will know."

Esme took the keys to the Mercedes and the medication, and drove to La Push, pulling up outside the Black residence several minutes later. It was the fastest she had ever driven across town and for the first time ever she felt like a Cullen—at least as far as their crazy driving went.

There was already a small herd of people hanging around on the porch—she figured most of them were part of the pack judging by their muscled build and minimal clothing in the wet, winter weather. Esme recognized Quil, Embry, Seth, and even Paul. There were a few women as well, older, who smiled at her though they'd never met.

She headed up the stairs towards the door—nervous and anxious to get inside—but a violent scream made her stop, her hand drawing back from the doorknob.

"The Doc's rebreaking his ribs," Seth said, pulling away from the group. "He healed up too quick and things were already settling crooked."

"What happened to him?"

"Oh, you know, he took a corner too fast and wrecked his car. Billy was some peeved at him. But you should go in," Seth said with a grin. "He'd probably like to see you now that he isn't wailing like a baby."

She laid a gentle hand on his shoulder before pushing her way inside the house. It was quiet now. No moans or groans or any kind of evidence that Jacob was inside. She followed the hallway towards his room when Carlisle exited.

He turned to her immediately, his eyes lighting up as he spied the box in her hands.

"Excellent," he whispered, coming over to her.

"Alice said you might need this?"

"Yes, it's my morphine supplies. I had some in my bag, but I had no idea that it wouldn't be enough. He's burning it off as fast as I can get it into him. This is exactly what I needed." He kissed her forehead. "Thank you."

"Thank Alice. Is he resting now?"

"For the moment. I have a few more adjustments to make to align his bones, but I'm going to mix some more of this up before I do."

"The boys said you had to break his bones again?"

Carlisle's smile pulled into a tight line. "I'm afraid the wolves are imbued with advanced healing properties, though it's working against him right now. His bones are trying to mend the way they've broken. I've had to re-break and set some of them properly."

Esme blinked quickly, a thin crease appearing between her eyes. Carlisle pulled her into his arms. "He's been very brave."

"Can I go in to see him?"

"Of course, love." His gave her a gentle squeeze before letting her go.

She pulled away from Carlisle and pushed the door of Jacob's room open slowly. All the visits to the house and she'd never actually seen Jacob's room before. It seemed oddly tiny compared to his lanky frame of muscle, especially with his body crammed into his now too-short bed.

She looked around quickly. His furniture was fashioned from dark wood and a picture of a beautiful young woman with a baby sat on his bedside table. She didn't know how, but she knew it was his mother.

Jacob breathed through his mouth, his chest shaking as he took in a shallow gulp of air. As she closed the door behind her, his eyes opened and despite the pain he was obviously in, his mouth spread into a grin.

Esme stopped next to the bed and sat on the edge. Jacob's hair was a mess, matted with what looked to be dried blood. It spread over his face, around his lips and jaw. She suspected he might have broken his nose in the accident.

"Oh, Jacob!" she sighed, running her hand over his forehead. His skin felt flushed though she knew it was just him. "What were you thinking?"

"That I could have gotten it into the next gear if the road went on for just a little longer." He laughed, grinning with all his teeth as he clutched his ribs.

"Don't laugh," she chastised.

"Sure, sure," he said. "Don't worry, the Doc's got me drugged up pretty good now."

She frowned at the pain he was obviously in.

"Hey, can you thank him for coming over? I'm sure it was the most haunted walk of his life. Embry told me Sam had the pack lined up at the border."

Esme shook her head. "He was happy to come."

"Sure, sure," Jacob whispered.

Clearly, the morphine was finally kicking in and for that she was glad.

"Just rest," she said, squeezing his hand. He squeezed back and his eyes fluttered closed. She whispered that she would be back later and left Jacob to his morphine-sleep, hoping it lasted long enough for Carlisle to get him some more.

In the hallway, Carlisle was speaking quietly with Billy, low and quick. ". . . his body will burn off the morphine at an alarming rate. His metabolism will make it very difficult to control the pain, but I predict the speed of the healing process will make up for it."

Billy sighed gruffly. "Thank you, Doctor Cullen, for coming. I'm sure you can appreciate how difficult it would have been to take him elsewhere."

"Of course," Carlisle smiled. "I'll top up his morphine now, but I will need to check in on him probably once more tonight and again in the morning."

Billy nodded gratefully. "I'll talk to Sam, so the pack is aware."

They shook hands then, all business.

Carlisle passed her in the hall on his way back into Jacob's room, pausing to lay his hand against her cheek. His thumb brushed along her cheekbone and she leaned into the caress. It was a sweet moment in the midst of chaos.

He slipped away just as quickly to do his work.

Esme looked at Billy who had been watching the interaction with silent curiosity. He tilted his head as she approached.

"It's funny," he said.

"What is?"

"Just how things work out." He laughed a little. "Befriending you brought the Cullen's into our lives by association, despite the treaty, despite how our ancestors worked to ensure they would never be a problem. And now, the Doctor is here, probably against his better judgement, to help my son. And I suspect it has more to do with you, than anything."

Esme didn't know what to say, so she just leaned against the wall next to Billy's wheelchair.

He hummed low in his throat. "He's the most compassionate creature I've ever met. It's an enigma."

"Carlisle certainly is that," she agreed, though she liked to think that she'd begun to understand some of his mystery, some of the history that had created this amazing, caring, wonderful man.

"A person built for such destruction, and yet he dedicates his existence to saving human life." Billy shook his head slowly. "Jacob's been struggling with the pack for a while now. They weren't fond of his association with the Cullen's, but he was adamant about being able to see you. But lately, he'd begun to warm up to the Cullen's as well. I'd never heard him speak so freely of them before. Of the doctor and how much he cared for you. I thought Jacob might have been mistaken. He's young, of course. Just a boy. But, he's wise in certain ways and he reads people very well."

"I didn't mean to cause Jacob problems with the pack," she said.

Billy smirked. "He told me the same thing about you—about causing you issues with the Cullen's. And do you remember what you told him?"

Esme smiled to herself. "That some people were worth fighting for."

"The pack are like siblings. Connected by ancestry and order. But Jacob defies them for you." He reached for her hand and squeezed it. "I believe there are reasons for everything. You walked into Jacob's life at a time when he was struggling. And now you're here for him again. There's a certain amount of fate to it."

"We've both helped each other," Esme said. "I'm just glad he's okay. What was he doing anyway?"

"Being a teenager—reckless and stupid all mixed into one. I'm just glad he was wearing his seat belt. You know, he runs around as this massive wolf all the time, I forget that when he's not a wolf, he's still susceptible to these human things."

"It's a hard line to walk," Esme agreed. "The one between human and supernatural."

"He must love you very much—your doctor," Billy said. "To even consider crossing into our land accompanied by the very creatures created to destroy him."

Esme winced a little at that thought—not that Carlisle loved her, but about the wolves being created to destroy him.

"Thank you for asking this of him," Billy said. "I know it must have been difficult."

Truthfully, at the time, Esme hadn't considered the moral or ethical implications of what she asked of Carlisle. All she'd known then was that Jacob was in trouble and Carlisle was equipped to help him. She never considered how long he'd paused, considering the ramifications of stepping onto the reservation. She never even hesitated in expecting he would do this, not just for her, but because he truly was the most compassionate person she'd ever known.

"Your heart is very strong," Billy said. "And I will be grateful for that for a long time."

Carlisle opened the door to Jacob's room then, closing it slowly behind him. Esme knew he'd heard everything. It was impossible for him not to. He waited patiently at the end of the hall for her.

"We should go," Esme told Billy. "Let the pack off the hook a little. I know they're antsy."

"Sure, I'll walk you out." He winked, rolling along in his chair. "Make sure they don't give you too much trouble."

Billy led them to the porch, waving the boys out of the way. They moved in a wave, opening to let them through. The younger ones regarded Carlisle with curiosity. Surely, he didn't live up to the legends of the Cold One's they'd heard, especially with his arm tucked protectively around her waist.

And the others looked at him with something close to acceptance. Yes, he was an enemy of old, but he'd also just cared for one of their own.

Carlisle walked her to his Mercedes, opening her door and closing it once she was inside. He tipped his head to Billy and to Sam, then he joined her.

"Will he really be okay?" she asked as they drove off the reservation. Carlisle's gaze drifted to the woods every so often and she knew he was watching things that moved too quickly for her to see.

"He'll make a full recovery," he said, reaching over to rest his hand on her knee. "I promise."

"Good." She laid her hand over his as they drove back to his house.

Alice greeted them at the door, eager to piece together the events that had transpired as she'd seen only snatches and glimpses. The lack of sight when the wolves were around had been bothering her, even more so now that Esme had been spending more time in town with Jacob and his friends.

It was clear that Carlisle's visit to the reservation hadn't sat well with his family—or at least, the unknown once he'd crossed the border line. Esme understood that. She'd felt moments of it herself. Carlisle was vulnerable on the reservation—outnumbered and utterly alone. But the feeling had lessened when she'd seen how hurt Jacob had been. At least for the moment, there was a kind of kinship that existed.

"Is he okay?" Edward asked.

Carlisle nodded. "He will be in a few days perhaps. After some bed rest and no more winter drag races."

Emmett let out a long whistle. "Got to give the kid props."

"Don't encourage him," Esme pleaded. "He's far more breakable than you."

"I mean, yeah, but I bet—" He trailed off as Rosalie nudged him in the gut.

The intense anxiety Esme felt about Jacob suddenly melted away and she looked around to the stairs where Jasper was sitting. He avoided her gaze but she knew the sudden calm and desire to sleep was his doing.

Carlisle took her hand, intending to take her upstairs but she dug her heels in and he looked back at her. "I don't want to sleep yet," she insisted. "I want to go back to the reservation with you later."

"It'll be very, _very_ late." He gave her a sympathetic smile.

He probably thought that she was just worried about Jacob, and she was. But there was something about the dark that now played with her fears. She knew the wolves would never hurt Carlisle, not when he was on the reservation to help Jacob, but he would still be there alone, after dark, while she slept and the rest of the Cullen's were here.

It was funny how the tables had turned. Now it was Carlisle walking into a situation that could potentially be dangerous for him and she felt somewhat powerless.

"Here, Esme," Edward said suddenly, sitting down at the piano bench. He began to play and she migrated to the couch with Carlisle. The music was beautiful and haunting and pulled her closer and closer to sleep. It was sometime later that she felt Carlisle shift, covering her with a blanket as he went to work on Jacob, but by that point, she was too far gone to protest.

Esme woke with a start much later, squinting in the dimmed living room. Carlisle had returned and it was him shifting her feet over that had startled her.

"It's just me," he whispered, stroking a hand down her leg. "Go back to sleep."

Some part of her foggy brain was pleased to see him back in one peace. She hadn't _really_ been worried. It was just that absent fretting people did when faced with the unknown. She reached for his hand and pulled him down with her. Despite the bed upstairs having more room, he merely wrapped himself around her.

"How is he?" she mumbled, pressing a kiss to the back of Carlisle's hand. He smelt of rain and mint and some kind of old wood—something that reminded her of the Black's house.

"Even better than earlier. I've topped up his morphine and left instructions with Billy. It should get Jacob through until the morning."

"I'm coming with you," she sighed. "Don't even think of stopping me."

"I wouldn't dream of it," he chuckled.

"I mean it."

"Oh, I know. And when you're not adorable and exhausted, I'm sure you'll give me an earful about leaving you here tonight."

"Exactly," she said, patting his hand. Her eyes were heavy again.

He tucked his head near her ear and hummed, the same melody that Edward had been playing earlier, but slower, with more warmth, and she fell asleep in a moment of perfect contentment.


	36. Chapter 36

It felt like mere minutes before someone was nudging her awake again, but as the dreamlike images of yesterday arrived once more—her elation over the divorce paperwork, curled up on the couch with Carlisle, Embry's panic as he pleaded from the yard, the small room that held Jacob with his broken bones and blood—she slowly came to her senses, realizing it was neither a dream nor her imagination at work. Yesterday had just been that chaotic.

"Esme," Carlisle whispered, running a cool fingertip behind her ear and down her neck. The motion pulled her out of the last bits of sleep and she groaned.

She hadn't even opened her eyes yet, but it felt very, _very_ early. Through the thin slit in her eyes, she could barely make out the rough shape of the furniture, which meant it was still dark outside.

"I have to go check on Jacob," Carlisle said.

That stirred something in her and she fought with the blanket that had gotten wrapped around her body overnight. "I'm up," she mumbled. "I'm awake."

"I see that," he laughed, helping to untangle her. His lips grazed the side of her face once she was free. "Shall I put the coffee pot on?"

"Mmm, yes please." She flopped back in a heap as soon as he was gone. She could hear him tinkering in the kitchen. She could also hear the almost silent swoop of quick feet as the other Cullen's moved deftly around the house. They tried, for her sake, not to be quite so graceful when she was around. It was easy to be startled when your company was capable of making no noise at all.

She sat up, figuring a quick shower and a change of clothes was in order before she went to the reservation again. As Carlisle finished with the coffee, she hurried upstairs into his bedroom to get ready.

By the time she was finished, leaving the bathroom in a wave of steam, Carlisle had left her coffee in a travel mug on the dresser. She took a sip and gathered her things, joining him in the living room.

He'd been busy while she was showering, collecting an array of medical supplies. He didn't boast about it, but she knew he kept quite a supply in the house. Though it made sense, considering his profession, it was also odd seeing as gauze and morphine and suture kits were all useless for a vampire. That being said, she could only assume that Carlisle had begun to stockpile his reserves once he'd met her—once it became evident that love had tied them together. He was prepared for anything, but whatever the reason now, Esme was glad because it meant that Carlisle had been ready when Jacob had needed him.

Thankfully Esme was far less accident-prone than what she'd been told of Bella's last human year and none of these things had been needed.

"Are you ready?" Carlisle asked her.

She nodded. The light outside was just starting to crest through the trees and it cast a lime and silver haze across the yard. It was wet and slushy, the ground slick, so Carlisle held her hand on the way to the car, in case she should slip, but she felt awake and steady now.

He turned the heat on high as soon as they were both belted in, but they were pulling onto the reservation before the engine even had time to fully warm up.

"They just let you drive onto the property?" Esme observed.

"Sam's in the woods," Carlisle said, turning his head towards the trees.

A large black figure moved in the shadows, following them silently all the way to the Black residence. When Carlisle parked, Sam exited the trees, no longer a wolf, but a human, clad in a pair of jean shorts that had seen better days.

He looked tired, purple circles marring the skin beneath his eyes. Esme wondered if he had been up all night.

Sam didn't approach them, only made his presence known, and let them visit unimpeded. The rest of the pack and the assorted friends that had been gathered here yesterday had clearly gone home to sleep.

Esme admired Sam's dedication to his role as pack leader.

She was the first one up the stairs, followed closely by Carlisle with his black bag which had become an all too familiar sight lately. She moved to knock but Carlisle shook his head and opened the door. It wasn't locked.

"Jacob's still asleep," he whispered.

As they moved into the house, she spied Billy in the kitchen with a mug. He raised his hand in a silent welcome as Carlisle nodded and slipped into Jacob's room.

Esme followed the hall to Billy first. "How's he been?" she asked.

"Not bad. He got a little restless around midnight, but Carlisle showed up just in time to get him settled again."

 _Carlisle?_ Esme tried to control the grin that threatened to spread across her face. First name basis was definitely an improvement from _the doctor_ and definitely from _leech_.

"Did he sleep the rest of the night?"

"Like a log. Didn't even snore."

"It does seem oddly quiet here," Esme said.

"It's just me and Jacob right now. Rachel went to stay at Sam and Emily's for a bit. She wanted to be here, to help look after him, but where she goes right now, Paul also goes—he and Jake have a tense relationship as it is—so we thought it best to keep Paul away for now."

Esme suspected it might also have something to do with Carlisle coming and going so frequently from the house. She didn't say it, but Billy caught her eye and she knew.

Carlisle appeared in the doorway to the kitchen. She smiled, but Billy looked up, surprised, spluttering on his coffee. "You're a quiet one, Doc."

Carlisle ducked his head, offering a genuine smile. "I'm happy to report that Jacob is healing remarkably well. I suspect that he'll be up walking again by the end of the week."

"That's good news," Billy said. "Really good."

"I'll continue to check in on him, however, when he does start moving around again, I would suggest that he doesn't phase right away. I suspect that the transition from human to shifter puts a lot of stress on the musculature and I would worry that he might re-fracture newly healed bones."

"Understood," Billy said.

"I've also told Jacob this," Carlisle said, the corner of his lips twisting, "though his reply of _sure, sure_ wasn't as convincing as I would have hoped."

Billy snorted. "Kid got his mother's eloquence and sarcasm. But don't worry, I'll make sure he understands. He's gonna be grounded for the better part of his youth anyway, so he won't have a lot of time to go running off in the woods."

Esme patted Billy's shoulder. She knew he'd have a hell of a time trying to contain Jacob once he was good and healed.

Carlisle cleared his throat. "He asked to see you, Esme."

"He's still awake?"

"Yes." He gestured to the door.

"Ask him what he wants for breakfast," Billy requested. "Actually, never mind. Kid gets whatever I feel like making him."

Esme chuckled. "Somehow I suspect any kind of food will satisfy him." She left Billy and Carlisle in the kitchen and ventured into Jacob's room. The curtains were drawn, letting grey light spread across his brown bedspread. He had a binder wrapped around his torso now and some kind of sling holding his arm.

"Hey," he said, sounding groggy but eager to see her. Whether it was from sleep or the medication, she couldn't tell. He attempted to lift himself up on his elbows, wincing as he went, and Esme rushed to his side to help.

"Careful," she told him.

"Sure, sure," he grunted.

She grinned at his persistence. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know, just peachy."

She sat by his side. "Looks like someone finally wiped the blood off your face."

"I think that was dad actually. Let me tell you, if anything makes you feel like you're an infant again, it's having your wheelchair-bound dad scrub the dried gunk off your face. We've both agreed not to talk about it for the duration of our lives."

She rolled her eyes. "He's just worried. It helps to have something to do."

"Yeah, well, I'm not so incapacitated that I can't wash myself from now on." He blew out a grateful breath between his cheeks. "So, Embry is going to bring my school work by. Do you think you could stop by for tutoring since I'm going to be stuck in bed? I know we have the library thing going on—but since I can't exactly get there . . ." He gave her a signature Jacob grin.

"I'll talk to Carlisle. I'm sure we can work something out."

"Nice," Jacob said, flopping back down and getting comfortable. "Dad says I'm grounded for life. You think he's serious or just bluffing?"

"I think you scared him, Jacob," she said seriously.

"Ah, man, don't do the guilt thing. Why are parents and teachers so good at that?"

"It's part of the job description."

"Well, don't worry. I won't be driving again anytime soon. The Rabbit is wrapped around a tree and all my savings are wrapped up with it." He narrowed his eyes. "That should be punishment enough."

Esme hummed. "Not really."

"Don't tell me you're siding with dad?"

"I'm erring on the side of safety and following the rules of the road."

"I should have known," Jacob said, face twisted in some kind of smirk. "The Doc said you don't even like when he drives fast. And he has perfect reflexes."

So Carlisle and Jacob had been chatting. That realization warmed her. "He's right," she said. "And he's very good about it when I'm in the car. I know you feel invincible, but you're still very breakable."

"Trust me," he sighed, fiddling with his bedspread. "I know that now. Never thought I'd let a vamp purposely break my bones."

"And let's hope you never have to again."

"Yeah. Right."

He looked sort of defeated and Esme felt bad. "Is there any hope of saving it?"

"Probably not. It's still in the woods. I didn't have insurance on it and we didn't want to draw attention to the reservation by reporting the accident, so it'll probably just rust into a marshy pile in the green wasteland that is Forks. Ah, whatever." He yawned. "Is dad making me food?"

"As we speak."

"Cool." His eyes grew heavy again. The new morphine drip Carlisle had set up was clearly into Jacob's system now.

"I'll be back later," she promised.

"With snacks?"

"With snacks," she agreed. And he was out.

* * *

Esme spent the rest of the day with Carlisle, going back and forth from the reservation. Sometimes Jacob was awake and sometimes he was passed out. But she brought the snacks as promised, filling up Billy's poorly stocked cabinets. Even from bed, Jacob was eating him out of house and home.

"Believe it or not, this is far better than it usually is," Billy told her. "With Paul here a lot of the time, it's a stretch to keep them both fed."

"I can imagine," Esme said, shoving another container of cookies into the cupboard. Bella had been busy baking, and though Jacob said everything had a vampire-ish smell to it, he also said he wasn't going to turn down chocolate chips. So, for the first time in months, Bella had someone to cook for other than her and she was giddy about it. "How's that going anyway?" Esme wondered. "The Paul thing?"

"I mean, do I wish he and Jacob got along better? Yes. Is he a well-meaning kid? I think so. Do I wish Rachel would take her time and not rush into things? Definitely. But sometimes things are meant to be, even if I don't quite understand it."

"Are you worried about when Jacob starts dating?" Esme asked.

Billy shrugged a little but smiled. "He's my last one, so yes. Though it's a little more complicated for a shifter."

"How so?" Esme asked, holding the cupboard doors together precariously to see if anything would fall out.

Billy rolled over to the table. "There's this thing called imprinting that sometimes happens to them. It's sort of like fate intervenes and one day there's just this person who becomes your whole world."

"Is that what happened with Paul and Rachel?"

"Yes . . . She came home. He took one look at her. And he just knew. It's partly why I tolerate him. Why I force Jacob to be civil. I know there isn't a lot he can do to control it, but I also know he'd go to the ends of the earth to make Rachel happy."

"That seems kind of . . . strange," Esme said. "To navigate a world where one day that choice is made for you."

Billy nodded. "It can be. But it doesn't always happen. Jake insists he's never going to imprint, but . . ."

Esme tipped her head. Billy had a thoughtful expression on his face. "What?" she pressed.

"The genes run very deep with him, so I'd say his chances are pretty good. It was his great-grandfather, Ephraim Black, that originally established the treaty with Carlisle. In another world, it might have been Jacob that took up the mantle of pack leader."

Esme tried to imagine Jacob shouldering that burden of responsibility. His easy, carefree nature would have slowly been crushed under rules and constructs. Maybe even some of his sympathy.

"Sam is a good man," Billy said quickly. "Don't get me wrong. And he lives up to the legends of our ancestors. But as the alpha, his worldview has become very black and white. He's tolerating Carlisle's presence for Jacob's sake, but it wasn't an easy fight."

"Is it still a fight?" Esme wondered.

"Not so much. But Sam's been watchful. He's uneasy about the relationship that Jacob's developed with the Cullen's. Now Seth talks of them incessantly, too. And Embry and Quil don't seem to mind them all that much."

Esme sat down next to Billy, studying his old, weathered face. "Is there something you're trying to tell me?"

He reached out to touch her hand. "Jacob will do everything in his power to protect you, Esme. But the word of the alpha is all consuming. He cannot disobey a direct order."

The hair on her arms stood up as Billy spoke. This was a warning.

"He's told me about your plans for the future. And it's not my business to comment, but I do feel the need to tell you that the treaty extended to more than just land. It was agreed that the Cullen's would never bite a human _here_. That they would never change anyone."

Esme blinked hard. She really hadn't given her future much thought beyond what she would become. She hadn't considered when or how or even that she would have to leave Forks. That she would have to leave Jacob.

"So, what you're saying, is that in order for Carlisle to protect the treaty in Forks, I am going to have to say goodbye?"

Billy nodded. "I'd like to think that a span of years would be enough, but knowing what I do of Sam—"

"He'll still consider the treaty broken," she said.

"Yes. He knows you were human when you lived here. If you return to us, no longer human, he may very well send the pack to destroy the Cullen's."

Esme sat back, feeling winded.

"Nothing is certain, of course," Billy said. "And Sam often takes counsel with the elders. I just . . . once he's phased, we no longer have any say in what he tells the pack. I just don't want to see you hurt at the end of all of this."

She tried to smile, laying her other hand over Billy's. "Thank you for telling me. I guess those are things I'll have to figure out when the time comes, but let's just focus on getting Jacob well for now."

Billy nodded and let that conversation drop, moving on to more mundane topics.

On the drive home with Carlisle, she was quiet. He looked over several times, concern evident in his features, but she didn't have the energy to fake a smile for him. Billy's words had left an unexpected sting. She had anticipated the challenges that came with vampirism—the bloodlust mostly. But in a strange way, knowing Jacob was a shifter had eased that part of her mind. Vampires weren't called to their blood the same way they were to others. It was an adaptation that ensured the pack's survival. So some naive part of her thought she'd get to keep Jacob in her life—even if it took a while.

But now, with Sam and the treaty building a wall between them, it seemed as though she'd have to say goodbye to him after all.

Carlisle reached across the car and took her hand, lifting it to press a kiss to her knuckles.

He didn't have to say anything, that little bit was enough.

* * *

That afternoon Carlisle was scheduled to work, though he promised he'd be back in time to check on Jacob with her later.

Until then, Esme was left to spend the rest of the weekend in the company of the other Cullen's. It was a usual, rainy day and some of the family were planning a quick hunting trip. Although it was unnecessary, someone always stayed with her while the others were gone.

Today it was Emmett and Rosalie that had silently volunteered to stay behind, which worked out well because Esme had a favour to ask. She quickly finished up some of her classroom prep for Monday and as soon as the others had raced into the woods, went to find Emmett. He was standing in front of the TV when she arrived, shaking his head at the results of a hockey game.

A fight broke out on screen and he only turned to her when the referees had finally pulled the players apart.

"Having fun?" she asked.

"Eh . . . I'd rather be playing said sports, especially since I'm destined to repeat my senior years of high school for eternity, but family baseball is just as good when it happens."

Esme's brows pulled together. She vaguely recalled hearing something about some pretty incredible baseball games from Carlisle.

"Oh, right!" Emmett said. "You haven't seen us play yet."

"I think we'd both remember that." She glanced at the TV, but it looked like the game had just finished. "Can you help me with something?"

"Are we pranking Carlisle?"

"No."

"Edward?"

"No pranking. Nothing like that."

"Oh, well," he sighed, faking disappointment or perhaps genuinely disappointed—it was hard to tell. "Whatever you need. I'm here."

She smiled. "I need you to unwrap a car from a tree."

Both his brows shot up. "That's not at all what I thought you were going to say."

"What did you think I was going to say?"

"Never mind that now. Let's go." He didn't question her about it anymore or tell her it was a terrible idea. He was just happy to help her, and that was one of the truly great things about Emmett—he was always there when you needed him.

"How do you want to do this?" Esme asked as they cut through the garage. "Do we need some sort of—"

"Nah," Emmett said. He glanced at his jeep but shrugged. "I'll just pick it up. Kid's car isn't that big anyway, especially if it's an accordion now."

"Like you'll just . . ." Esme mimed picking something up.

"Yeah, pretty much."

"Alright then." In all actuality, she'd watched Emmett lift boulders over his shoulder for fun. This should be easy. But as she drove him out to the crash site and pulled up along the crushed wreck that was once Jacob's car, she still gaped when Emmett hopped out and easily lifted the vehicle, carrying it out of the ditch.

"So I'll meet you back at the house?" he said.

Esme nodded and Emmett grinned that familiar, blinding grin as he disappeared into the forest, most likely enjoying the look of shock on her face.

When Esme finally pulled up the driveway, she was unsurprised to find that Emmett had beat her there. He had already opened the garage and deposited Jacob's car inside on an empty patch of concrete workspace.

Rosalie entered at the sound of their return, standing at the top of the stairs leading into the house. She wore jeans and a grey flannel, with her long locks folded into a loose bun. She looked stunning, and completely out of place as she walked barefoot across the oil marked floor to stand beside Emmett. "What on earth is this?"

"What's left of Jacob's car," Esme said, joining them both to observe the extent of the wreckage.

Rosalie glanced at Emmett. "Please tell me no one saw you?"

"Babe, do I look that dumb?"

Rosalie murmured something that Esme couldn't hear, but Emmett just chuckled. Then Rosalie made a slow round of the metal heap, eyes flitting quickly left and right—possibly intrigued—while Emmett sat down.

"So . . ." Rosalie eyed them both after a beat. "I know what it is, but what's it doing here?"

Esme bit her lip. "I know it's really bad, but do you think you could look at it? Maybe tell me if anything is salvageable?"

"I thought you were against him drag racing?" Emmett said from his perch on a stack of tires.

"I am. Most definitely," Esme said. "But he put so much time into this car and it means a lot to him."

"You're too nice for your own good," Emmett said, but he hopped off his perch and immediately unbent part of the frame. "I mean, if anyone besides Carlisle could make me feel sympathy for some wolf-child, it's you. It's like you two were made for each other."

Rosalie nudged him in the arm but gave Esme a small grin. "I won't make any promises. But give me a few days. I'll see what I can do."

"Thanks, Rosalie."

Emmett rubbed his hands together. "I love a project."

As he walked into the house to change his clothes, Rosalie just shook her head and came to stand beside Esme. "He gets really excited when he gets to hold the cars up. Like I somehow forget that he's really strong." She paused. "Did he really just run home carrying a car over his head?"

"Yes, pretty much."

"Great," Rosalie said. She looked slightly concerned, though unsurprised and eventually set to work straightening out dents to see what she was working with. Esme left her to it and for the rest of the weekend, she could hear the hard knock of metal on metal as they worked.

* * *

The following days passed in a blur of tasks, most of which revolved around the reservation. Esme had spent so much time there lately, even alone with the boys, that it amazed her that there had ever been an issue with her travelling back and forth.

Despite Billy's warning about Sam and her future, the tentative truce between the two sides had made it far easier for Esme to navigate being with both Jacob and Carlisle. Alice was heated as ever, having no clue where half her family was seeing as someone was always in the company of a wolf, but aside from that and Jacob being injured, it was one of the best weeks of her life.

Now that Jacob had been cleared by Carlisle, however, the treaty had returned to full effect and Carlisle could no longer step onto the reservation. Even so, he'd given her no grief about driving out after school today. She'd taken to spending a few hours after school each day at the Black residence, helping Jacob stay caught up with his homework, and she was amazed when Embry, Seth, and Quil also managed to cram themselves into Jacob's tiny room.

"Our snack stash is getting low," Seth said, looking dejectedly at an empty container that had previously held a batch of muffins Bella had made.

"Add it to the pile," Jacob told him, nodding to a stack on his dresser.

Esme made a mental note to ask Bella if she would mind making some more. As far as she could tell, Bella was glad to have someone else to cook for and the boys were very appreciative. After a few days, they'd stopped mentioning the vampire smell altogether.

"Do you think we can go over that simile and metaphor stuff again tomorrow?" Seth asked. He stared at his homework, flicking his pencil off his chin. Finally, he closed his book. "I give up today. I'm beat."

The other boys rolled their eyes, but Esme gave them a look that kept them quiet. Seth was a year behind them all, so where they now felt confident, he was still learning.

"Of course we can," she said.

"That would be great. Thanks." He snatched his bag off the floor and stuffed his books inside. "I gotta go, Leah's been texting me about dinner for like an hour."

"Tell her she can come over if she wants," Jacob said.

"Nah, she's worried she'll run into Sam. It's bad enough when they're both wolves."

The group made hummed agreements and Esme slowly put the pieces together. She looked up at Seth. "Your sister's transformed? I thought it was a male gene only."

"So did everyone else," Seth said. He shrugged with a goofy grin. "But, hey, Leah's always sort of done her own thing. I don't mind it anyway. This way she can know too and we don't have to hide it from our mom. It's easier that way."

Esme waved as Seth left. She'd learned more about the wolves than she ever expected to, but the one thing that struck her was how secretive they tried to be within their own community. Not everyone knew, and those that did were sworn to secrecy. It was difficult for some of the boys, not being able to tell their parents, so they'd taken refuge in houses like Jacob's where Billy could act as a buffer when late-night activities kept the boys away from their families.

She turned to Jacob. "Why doesn't Leah want to run into Sam?"

Jacob stuffed an entire piece of banana bread in his mouth and swallowed in one gulp. "That's not even something I can fully explain. But it has to do with stupid imprinting and their cousin and a bunch of relationship drama."

Esme waved her hand. "We can leave it at that. Sounds like none of my business."

"Wish we could just decide when it's also none of our business," Quil muttered. He sighed and rolled to his feet. "I'm out, too. Gotta go home at some point or my mom will lose it."

"Same," Embry said. "Thanks for coming down again, Esme. We'll see you tomorrow."

They left and then it was just her and Jacob. "So, I have some good news," she said.

"I can get out of this bed?"

"Carlisle said tomorrow, as long as you don't transform."

"Sure, sure," he said. "But I feel fine just so you know."

"Well that's good because I had Emmett dig your car out of the forest—" Jacob's mouth opened but he didn't say anything, so Esme continued. "Rosalie took a look at it. She thinks . . . well, honestly there were a lot of things I didn't understand, but basically, the inside isn't completely broken. And they've managed to pop the frame back into some recognizable form. She said it would take some time, but that when you were feeling up to it, she'd help you get it running again. And before you ask, I've already cleared it with your dad. You're not allowed to drive it right now, but he agreed to let you work on it."

Jacob's jaw got progressively lower until it was just about resting on his chest. Then he launched himself at her, squeezing his massive arms around her. The hug was suffocating, but Esme just squeezed him back.

"You really are the best," Jacob said. "I don't even know how to thank you!"

"How about you aim for an A on your next essay."

"A solid A- we could probably talk about."

Esme laughed. "Good enough."

Jacob sat back against his headboard, too giddy to even think about continuing with his work. They'd made good progress anyway tonight, so Esme let him off early and gathered up her things.

"You're coming for dinner tomorrow, right?" Jacob said as she headed for the door.

"Definitely."

"Great. See you then."

Esme pointed to his bed. "Get some rest tonight. And nothing crazy until tomorrow."

Jacob saluted her and flopped down on his back, grinning up at the ceiling with his hands behind his head.

The weather outside had turned from pale grey to sleeting rain to slush and navy skies. It was still cold, not enough that she needed her hat and mitts anymore, but enough that she still turned her heat on as soon as she got into her car. Each day brought spring closer and Esme couldn't wait to be rid of the random bouts of snow for a while.

After waving goodbye to Billy, she reversed down the Black's gravel driveway and pulled onto the main road leading out of the reservation. The streets were quiet, most people already settled inside for the night, and the trees rose up around her as the winding roads began to converge closer to the highway leading into Forks. She was often the only vehicle passing through at this time of night, so it was the unusual sound of tires screeching over gravel and the bright flash of headlights that pulled her attention.

As she looked over her shoulder, she already knew something was wrong. Many things happened at once then, but none so terrifying as the side of her car buckling under the force of the colliding vehicle.

She felt her head crack against the window, bouncing back and forth. Her hands locked on the steering wheel as her car spun. Her body tensed, curving inwards, away from the sound of crunching metal and shattering glass. When her car finally stopped and she came to a standstill, she could barely open her eyes.

The world around her had grown thick with fog and as someone approached through the smoke, Esme tilted her head back. The figure focused for only a second, but it was long enough for her heart to stop.

"Charles?" she said.

Then everything went black.


	37. Chapter 37

There was a throbbing pain in the side of her head like someone had driven a piece of glass into her temple with a hammer. Blindly, Esme reached for the spot. Her fingers found no glass, but a sticky goo that smelled strongly of blood.

She winced, the sound strangled in her throat and she wondered how much more it would hurt to cry.

"Hello, Essy."

 _So that part hadn't been a nightmare_.

"How did you find me?" she groaned.

"You signed the stupid divorce papers. Took me long enough to realize that once I signed them and you sent them back, your address would be on them. Do I look like an idiot to you, Essy?"

In Polaroid-like glimpses, she managed to open her eyes enough to gauge her surroundings. She didn't recognize the vehicle she was in, though the man beside her was frighteningly familiar. He hadn't changed much in the months they'd been apart, but after spending so many hours looking into Carlisle's kind face, Charles' features held a sharpness that made her pulse race.

"Where are we going?" she croaked. The world outside was dim, clinging to the last of the sunset.

"For a drive," he said, casting his eyes towards her. They lingered and appraised, in a way that used to make her shudder, only now it hurt to move, so she stayed very, _very_ still. "There are some things we need to talk about."

Esme took a breath. It hurt going in and even more going out, so she changed to shallow gulps of air as Charles weaved them deeper into the forest, clutching her head as the pain travelled from the front to the back. She didn't recognize this part of the reservation in the dark, but she recognized the utterly mad look on Charles' face—she'd seen it before, over and over, when she'd thought one more blow might actually kill her—and the fear feeding through her veins gave way to one, pure moment of adrenaline. She rallied enough to yank the wheel from his grip, hurling them off the gravel path and plummeting them into a thick bank of trees.

The car spun out of control, lurching over uneven ground and ricocheting off trees as the slope grew steeper.

Charles shouted, calling her crazy. Esme just braced herself for impact, but before it came, there was a moment when she realized that they were airborne. It was an eerie kind of peace in that one moment. Silence consumed her until the beat of her heart began to echo in her head.

She squeezed her eyes against the swirling fog in her brain, knowing that when they hit the bottom she might not be able to recall anything. Ever.

The last thing she thought about was Carlisle.

When the collision came, she was grateful that it didn't hurt the way she had expected. In fact, she could barely feel anything at all.

Idly, as the last moments of consciousness lingered, she wondered if this was what death felt like?

* * *

It was almost nine when Jacob smelled the smoke. For several moments, he wondered if his dad had left the bread in the toaster too long again.

But his keen senses pulled him in another direction and he got out of bed, tip-toed across the floor, and threw up the window. It was coming from outside. A sour, metallic smoke filtered on the air. Any other day, he would have let it go. But now it was an intimately familiar smell—the smell of wrecked metal. The smell of an accident.

The fact that it was seemingly on the reservation was what concerned him. There seemed to be no commotion in the fading twilight. No sirens. No sign that anything was wrong, and yet something bugged him. Something wouldn't let him settle. So against doctor's orders, Jacob slipped on his sneakers and climbed out his window.

If his dad saw him now he would flip.

But seriously, he was fine. Better than fine actually and the feel of the earth and the smell of the pine on the wind filled him with adrenaline.

Jacob followed the scent of burnt metal around the back of the house and started on the gravel road leading to the highway. It only took him a few minutes before he found it—Esme's car, abandoned in the ditch, headlights flickering.

He could smell gas and something else. A man's cologne perhaps?

It wasn't familiar. And it definitely didn't belong to the Doc.

He walked around the side of the car, noting the deep tread marks in the gravel. Something had hit Esme, maybe even run her off the road.

And then took off?

 _There's no way_ , Jacob thought. No way she wouldn't have called the house. He squinted in the fading light. Something else had happened here.

He slipped into the trees, throwing his shirt over his head and kicking his shoes into the forest. With a steadying breath, he closed his eyes and felt a familiar heat rip through his body. He clenched his teeth as his muscles twinged. Okay, so maybe the Doc had been right about shifting, he thought as he swiftly crossed the road.

With his wolf eyes, he could see the tread of the other car much clearer and he followed that and the lingering smell of Esme and the other stranger. It led him deep into the woods and when he saw the state of the trees along the east bank—the one that led to the diving cliffs—his heart sank.

Jacob hurdled through the trees, nose turned to the ground, eyes casting around for a sign of the car, but as he neared the edge of the cliff, he knew what had happened.

One glance over the edge and he could see the outline of the car below, stuck in the ground at an odd angle.

He whined, a pathetic attempt when he couldn't use his voice. Closing his eyes, he zoned in on the sounds coming from the car. There was machinery still working. Electricity buzzed. And there it was . . . the hum of a heart, like the song of a bird, low and sweet. He couldn't tell if it was Esme's, but then she made a noise. A cry or a call, he couldn't be certain, he just knew he had to get the Doc before her heart stopped.

The race through the woods to the Cullen property left him panting and aching along his hind legs. A sharp pain travelled from his hips to his ribs, but Jacob pushed on, lengthening his stride and weaving around trees and crashing right through ones he wasn't able to dodge quickly enough.

He passed Colin on patrol and the young wolf called curious questions after him, but Jacob just ran. He didn't have time for that now.

When he reached the border of the Cullen land he let out a long, piercing howl to let them know he was here. And that he needed help.

The lights in the house were on and he could see the outline of the family along the porch, their skin glowing under the night sky.

The grass in the yard was slick and he had trouble stopping as he skidded across the lawn, tumbling on his long limbs as he phased back. It was a poor phase and he could feel it as soon as he was human again, dropping to his knees and clutching his side.

"Doc!" he cried through the pain. Like clockwork, Carlisle moved to the stairs, flanked by his family. They stood unmoving, like ghostly figures cut from wax.

"It's Esme, there's been an accident. Her car was wrecked by someone. He took her," Jacob gasped, still winded from his run. "They pitched off a cliff on the reservation—"

"It's Charles," Alice said, her tiny frame appearing beside Carlisle's. Her eyes were wide and glassy, reflecting the lights from the house. "That's what those foggy spots in my vision were!"

Carlisle was in motion then, leaping over the railing and hurtling across the yard towards him. In the moments he had been here, the Doc had somehow had time to grab his bag.

"Carlisle, you can't," Edward said, racing after him. He was fast, catching Carlisle easily. "You know the treaty."

"It doesn't matter," Jacob cried, getting to his feet. He clutched his ribs as he prepared to shift again. Carlisle's eyes were frantic when he reached him. "She's dying!"

Alice gasped behind them. "I didn't see it," she said. "The stupid wolves shielded him. They've been all over her lately—in town, at the school. I'm sorry, Carlisle!"

"C'mon, Doc," Jacob said, ignoring the others. "Now! I can't protect your whole coven on Quileute land, but I can probably get you through. Hurry, there isn't time!"

"I'm sorry, Edward," Carlisle muttered under his breath. "Prepare the others. If it comes to a fight, just leave Forks." He pressed his hand to Edward's shoulder. "Take care of them."

Carlisle took off and Jacob phased in the air, sprinting as he touched the ground. Pain tore through his sides, but it took all his concentration to keep pace with the Doc. By the time they reached the reservation, Jacob realized that Colin had alerted Sam, and the border was being monitored by most of the pack.

They didn't go unnoticed, but Jacob managed to get Carlisle down to the beach, to the base of the cliffs, before the others managed to find them.

The car was wedged between sheets of granite rock and all Jacob could smell was blood and sea salt. It was a sickening combination and he circled the area as Carlisle navigated the rocks with ease, ripping the frame of the car open and pulling a body out.

Esme's body was limp in his arms, a dead weight against the sky, and Jacob crawled on his paws towards the spot where the Doc laid her down in the wet sand. Her heart hummed a slow, almost non-existent beat. She was fading.

"Esme!" the Doc said, almost like he was breathless. "Oh, my darling." His vampire hands trembled as they brushed lightly down her skin, over the bruising and blanching. The sight of fresh blood weeping from her too still body did not even phase him, but the guttural sob that escaped the Doc's lips made Jacob's heart pound.

Whatever their differences, this man loved Esme. Loved her enough to risk his life by coming onto the reservation.

Beside them, Jacob phased back, falling to his knees in the sand. He couldn't believe he was about to say this, but it was the only way. No matter what the Doc did, no matter what he pulled from that little black bag of his, she wouldn't survive this. He'd smelt the salty-sweet tang of spinal fluid as it seeped from her. Changing her was the only option and Jacob knew that.

"Bite her, Doc! If she's going to die, then bite her."

"I can't, Jacob," Carlisle seethed, "the treaty."

"Screw the treaty! You can hear her heart, I know you can. It's barely there. If it stops—"

Carlisle looked at him with quiet desperation. If it were possible for vampires to weep, he surely would be now. "The others are coming," Carlisle whispered, clutching Esme's body closer.

It was at that moment Jacob knew that the Doc was prepared to die for her. He'd heard what he told Edward before. If he lost Esme now, the Doc would stay right where he was and let Sam and the pack rip him to crystal dust. _Well_ , Jacob decided, he wasn't about to let any of that happen.

"Ah, shit," he muttered, scrambling backwards to give himself room to phase. He bit down hard as his limbs shot out. After this, he was taking an extended vacation from phasing.

Sam was the first one out of the trees and Jacob stood tall against the backdrop of the cliffs, shielding both the Doc and Esme.

 _Jacob move_ , Sam commanded.

 _No_.

 _This is an order, Jacob. They have broken the treaty._

 _Yeah, well, go big or go home,_ Jacob thought as he stepped back towards Carlisle and Esme, growling a warning at the pack.

 _Jacob!_

He bowed under the threat of Sam's power as alpha, at the command and authority.

But he couldn't let Esme die. He wouldn't. It would be like losing his mother all over again. So what if she was a leech? She'd probably be the nicest leech in existence. And she'd be with the Cullen's. They'd keep her in line while she was young and crazy. Heck, he'd even help if that's what it took. Being a leech was better than losing her altogether, so he fought it. Sam's order.

 _No._

 _Jacob!_

 _I said no!_

He felt as the command snapped like an elastic pulled to the extreme. It rebounded, falling from his shoulders—the loss of a physical weight. He stood straight and tall in defiance of Sam, no longer heavy with the weight of shouldering the orders of the pack.

At that moment, he was free and it was glorious.

He smiled a wolfy grin at the rest of them, before turning on the spot and letting out a great howl. He was the descendant of Ephriam Black, the original creator of the treaty. He could agree to break it, just this once. And that's exactly what he planned to do. He snarled at Sam, warning him away.

Seth was the first to break away from the pack, crawling on his paws to Jacob's side. The further from Sam he moved, the easier it was. It only took Leah a moment, looking back at Sam with sad eyes before following her brother. Embry and Quil joined him next.

The silence he had enjoyed was suddenly overrun as the others filled his head.

He had split the pack.

He had become an alpha.

 _Watch them_ , Jacob told his pack, before phasing back. "Do it, Carlisle. Now!" he grunted. "Or this has all been for nothing."

He watched as the Doc stroked her skin softly, just a brush of his finger over her cheek. Then he sunk his teeth into Esme's flesh. Jacob heard the soft, barely there gasp as the venom leeched into her skin and he watched her body go rigid.

"We have to get her out of here," the Doc said, no longer consumed by dread, but a panicked hope. "Back to my house, where I can care for her." Now that her survival was clear, Jacob knew that the Doc had to get her away from the other pack.

"We'll escort you," Jacob said.

The Doc nodded, scooping Esme's small frame into his arms once more. He glanced between the wolves. Embry and Quil shot off into the woods and Carlisle raced off behind them. Several of the younger wolves in Sam's pack made to go after them but Seth warned them away and Leah snapped her teeth near their paws, causing them to retreat behind Sam.

Jacob turned on the spot, becoming a wolf once more. The pain wasn't any better, but his new role came with a distracting amount of responsibility. The first thing he did was send Seth and Leah to flank Embry and Quil.

They took off and as Jacob backed away from the other pack, unsure about whether they would attack him, Sam stepped forward.

 _Jacob_. He watched him with dark, questioning eyes.

Clearly alpha's could communicate and Jacob took a moment to put his thoughts in order. Everything had happened so fast. Finally, he looked at him. _I'm sorry, Sam. But I love her, too. And I couldn't watch her die. Besides, this is what she wanted. She told me so herself. So, the treaty can't really be broken, not when she chose this._

 _He was on our land. Without invitation._

 _By invitation,_ Jacob corrected _. And if you try to harm either of them, you'll pit brother against brother. You have to know I never wanted that._

 _You're young, Jacob._ Sam's nostrils flared _. And foolish._

 _Maybe._ Jacob trotted away. _But hey, Sam, the way I see it, I just took Leah off your hands, so you should really be thanking me._

He watched Sam roll his eyes, then followed the others into the trees. Tonight there wouldn't be a war. Not between brothers. Tomorrow, well, Jacob would deal with that then.

He sat outside the Cullen residence for three days. His pack came to check in, but he mostly sent them home. They didn't need to be around for this part.

He listened to Esme scream for those three days, reminding himself over and over that this was better than death.

Sometimes the family came to check up on him, watching from their porch. The blonde Barbie doll left a bowl of water for him on the steps and her mate laughed gamely, saying he'd always wanted a dog. Jacob wanted to go a couple rounds with him and then see what he thought, though these were apparently the ones helping him rebuild his car, so he opted not to flash his teeth too much. The nicer leech, the one with the mind-reader, snuck out later and replaced the bowl with some water bottles and a plate of lasagna.

He couldn't hear as well as a human, so sometimes he sat in the woods, naked as the day he was born, letting his mind clear. The screaming happened in phases, fading into the background of his head, but at moments he was certain he'd go mad. It was easier to block out as a human. But he always returned as a wolf, because being able to hear was better than not knowing in the end.

Then finally, one day it stopped.

He heard the first tinkling words of Esme's new voice.

The first desperate cry as Carlisle wrapped her in his arms.

And he knew it would be okay. Not exactly perfect, she was a leech now after all, but she'd be happy. And that's what mattered.


	38. Chapter 38

**A/N:** So, ladies and gents, this is the end. Well, technically the last chapter was the end and this is the epilogue which is basically just the smut I've been waiting to write since I started this story. Haha. So all you younglings have now been warned. This is the M chapter. I don't consider it very graphic at all, but if that's not your thing, then just know they did indeed live happily ever after. Forever. :D

* * *

The water off the coast of the island was a beautiful shade of green along the horizon, turning baby blue as it rushed in churning waves up the shoreline. With the sun on her back and the warm sand beneath her, Esme didn't think anything could make this vacation any more perfect until her phone began to buzz and a photo of Jacob grinning with all his teeth filled the screen.

She rolled over to snatch her phone up from the towel she'd stretched out earlier in the day before rolling back to Carlisle's side.

His shifted beside her and laid his hand over her stomach as she answered the phone.

Jacob talked incessantly for about five minutes before she was finally able to get a word in. Esme covered the receiver with her hand. "He just got his acceptance to Alaska and Washington State."

"Tell him that's very impressive, though I knew he had it in him." Carlisle pressed a kiss to her neck as Jacob continued to rhyme off the schools he was still hoping to hear from.

Eventually, she finished the conversation, promising to call him later, for fear that she might start groaning into the phone. Despite having the ability to multi-task quite exceptionally, all of Esme's enhanced abilities went out the window where Carlisle was concerned. One touch from him could render her speechless.

She placed her phone back down on the towel she sat on and caught his wandering hand as it travelled up her thigh. "You're very distracting."

"I'm sorry. I intended to keep my mind about me, but that is very hard to do," he touched her bare shoulder, "when you are naked."

"Well, Doctor Cullen, it may have escaped your notice, but I am very much not naked right now."

His brows rose as he traced the line of her collar bone. His finger continued along the mid-line of her body, dipping over her navel and tracing a hip all the way down to her knee. Once there, he wrapped his hand around her leg and gave her a gentle tug, pulling her across the sand towards him.

"Well, you are wearing very _little_ clothing. Where'd this suit come from? I thought I'd seen them all."

"Alice's packing abilities will never cease to amaze me."

"Mmm," Carlisle hummed. He was clearly appreciating the skimpy black suit that she now wore.

Seeing as they were currently the only two occupants of the island, clothing had become somewhat optional several days in, but Esme had felt like teasing him a bit and she enjoyed the quiet desperation that she saw whenever he looked at her.

She stretched back in the sand beside him and he took her hand, fiddling with the ring she wore. His thumb grazed the simple gold band lovingly.

They'd been married for almost a year now, though it had taken them this long to finally get away for a proper honeymoon. Her newborn year had been a bit of an adventure considering it had started somewhat unexpectedly. The memories she had of that day were faded and few, a fact that Carlisle was glad of. He still shivered when he spoke of it because although it had ultimately brought them together like this, it was the closest he had ever come to losing her.

Still, Esme had been elated when she finally figured out where they were going. It had taken her a while to be comfortable being around humans long enough to fly, but seeing the island, she had decided it was well worth the wait. She still had no idea how Carlisle had managed to swing this, or where one even began looking for private islands to vacation on, but as the days passed, Esme realized that Carlisle never ceased to amaze her.

And he did it very well.

Truth be told, in the twelve days they had been here so far, they hadn't ventured much beyond the house and the beach, both of them entirely too consumed with each other. Though Esme was starting to feel the effects of her thirst and figured a trip inland would be necessary soon, if not out of a want to sight-see, then out of a need to hunt.

"Are you enjoying yourself?" Carlisle asked her. They'd become more tangled and she ran her foot up the back of his leg.

"Very much," she whispered. "I didn't think I'd ever get to enjoy the sun and the heat like this again." Vacationing in Florida with Sarah was certainly out the window now and the icy cliffs of Alaska just didn't hold the same appeal.

"I told you I'd give you the sun one day."

"You did, didn't you?" she said, sifting through a bank of dusty human memories. The fact that he'd kept that promise, even after all this time, warmed her more than the sun and the sand. "I do love it," she told him, kissing the tip of his nose. "I never want to leave."

"Then we won't," he said, curling his arms around her and trapping her against him. "You can stay as long as you like, Mrs. Cullen. The island is yours after all."

She sat up, breaking his hold, one hand pressed to his chest, the other hovering over her mouth. She moved far too quickly to ever pass for human, but Carlisle simply grinned at her shocked confusion and the adorable frown on her lips. "Did I hear you correctly?" she said.

He laughed. "You know you did."

"How—what? I mean—" She looked around their perfect oasis, fumbling for words. "You didn't really . . . buy an entire island?"

"For you, I did." He pushed the hair that had tumbled over her shoulder back behind her ear. "I want you to be happy, always."

She ran out of words then and folded herself into his arms instead.

"Is it too much?"

"No," she whispered. "It's perfect. You're perfect."

"Would you like to go explore your perfect island now?"

She shook her head slowly, catching his eye in a meaningful way. "First I'd like to explore my perfect husband. Can I interest you in a tour of the house again?"

"I think there are a few bedrooms we haven't seen yet. And a few beds that might still be standing."

Esme sat back, moving her hips in a slow circle. "Well, I'm all for practicing."

Carlisle grinned, leaning up to kiss her. "Are you now?"

The kiss lingered and she found herself beneath him once more. This time their hips moved against each other and Esme fought every instinct inside her, knowing they'd never make it to a bed if she didn't stop. "I am," she mumbled. "I don't know if you've ever been told, but I am a very good teacher."

Feeling her pull back, Carlisle took the opportunity to scoop her up then and she giggled as he relocated them inside the cozy island house to one of the many bedrooms. This one had a view of the jungle instead of the beach and Esme noted a bright red bird preening her feathers in the trees. A separate part of her brain catalogued the image for later—she'd love to paint it when they returned home.

The rest of her brain was focused solely on the feel of Carlisle's hands against the bare skin of her back.

He laid her against the bed and as she scrambled towards the middle, he crawled above her. She revelled in the feel of his body covering every bit of her own. They were well acquainted with each other now, but every time held the same anticipation as the first.

With his forearms by her head, he kissed her slowly and she let her hands wander up the strong muscles of his arms.

As his kisses moved south, he pillowed his head against her chest and she groaned. She guided him where she wanted him, pulling his hands up and laying them over her breasts.

After a few gentle strokes with his deft fingers, he pushed the black suit out of the way, nosing along the valley of her cleavage. She arched against him, trembling slightly as the nerve endings in her body fired on repeat. Like silk, his hand shifted along her skin, pulling on the ties of her bathing suit.

The patience he exerted was erotic in a way. Knowing the sheer force of his strength, the power of his muscles, the passion in his movements—he could have easily shredded the suit, but the care he showed it, letting his fingers linger against her skin, quickly had her panting for his attention elsewhere.

She liked Carlisle's hands on her very much. And, goddamn, Esme thought, his mouth.

His lips left wet kisses along the underside of her breast before climbing a peak and sucking on a budded nipple. Ripples of desire and need coursed through her, crashing like waves on a shoreline, building higher and higher. With nowhere to go, it was only a matter of time before they spilled over.

His hand found hers, curling their fingers together until he could feel the cold metal of her ring against his skin. That symbol of a forever together, she thought.

His other hand was very skilled, sliding both his suit and hers aside and she could feel his length brush against her stomach. She let her eyes flutter closed as he nudged against her opening, dipping in and out a few times to tease her.

When he finally did join them, Esme saw stars.

His strokes were slow and deep at first, urging her to look at him—into his dark, golden eyes. It was the intensity with which he watched her that had her squirming. Soon she was about to start begging.

It had shocked her how easily they had finally come together. How much she wanted him. _Always_. Never did a day go by when she thought she would be satiated when it came to Carlisle. It was good they had eternity together. To learn and relearn each other. Over and over.

He shifted slightly, catching her off guard and she whimpered, biting her lip to contain the waves of pleasure that had begun to flood her body.

Carlisle's strokes grew faster, more insistent, and she moved to match him, pulling their hips together, much like the way the waves beat against the shore.

His feet pressed into the foot board for leverage and a sharp crack made them pause. Esme giggled as Carlisle grinned against her skin. This wasn't the first furniture fatality they'd had, but when no other precarious sounds echoed between the walls, Carlisle readjusted, drawing his hips higher in the bed, and the new angle pulled her right back into the swirling spiral of pleasure.

Her fingers had moved along his back but were now curled tightly around his biceps in anticipation. She could feel his length deep inside her, brushing against things that made her eyes roll back in her head, but when his fingers drew between them, pressing against her, she unravelled explosively, turning into a shivering mess in his arms.

She tightened around him, her entire body seizing for a glorious moment. The pressure was enough and with a few more erratic strokes, Carlisle lost himself inside her.

Esme closed her eyes, wrapping her arms around him, knowing she could have basked in the still moments that followed forever.

* * *

Carlisle considered himself an expert when it came to the human body—he'd certainly sat through enough anatomy lectures over the course of three centuries. But lying here, with Esme in his arms, he felt like a novice all over again. Like he was learning the female form for the first time.

He wondered if it would always be like that with her.

He traced the ivory skin of her wrist and the subtle lines that crossed her palms, telling of fortunes and futures he couldn't understand. But ones he now knew would always include him.

"I can't believe you bought me an island," she said, stroking the soft skin next to his navel with her delicate fingers. "Does it have a name?"

"Isle Esme, naturally."

She flashed him a goofy smile. But he was suddenly overcome with the desire to replace it with the sound of Esme moaning his name and it was several long minutes before they had settled again.

"And what shall we do now?" he asked as she rested against him, her caramel curls fanned out across his chest. He regarded their reflections in the window pane that overlooked the jungle below and caught her smiling at him.

"Mmm," she hummed. "Some more of that. Definitely. But first I'd like to hunt. And explore." She reached up to kiss him, her fingers dancing south along his abdomen almost without her realizing.

He caught her fingers and let out a little groan beside her ear. "I think that's a good idea."

She covered her face with her hand to hide a non-existent blush. Sometimes her desires still overwhelmed her. "I really do need to hunt," she admitted.

Carlisle's control very rarely resulted in the kind of desperate need to hunt that the rest of them had, but he could tell when Esme was getting close. She lost some of her inhibitions and her eyes darkened. She was still young, still learning and adjusting to the powerful emotions that accompanied the need to hunt. It was blood _lust_ in every sense of the word.

"Then we shall," he said.

Her lips were caught somewhere between a relieved smile and a frown.

"To be continued," he said, making her grin. He leaned over bussed her cheek.

Her thumb stroked the side of his face in reply. "I suppose we can wait."

"You were well worth the wait," he murmured next to her ear. "All three hundred years of it."

She gave him the shy smile that often drove him wild. Looking at her now, splayed out like some sort of goddess, all smooth ivory skin and batting lashes, he struggled to pull himself out of the bed. "Was that really the last bathing suit?" he asked, turning to find his swim trunks.

She grinned and hopped out of bed, skipping over to her suitcase. "I'm sure Alice wouldn't disappoint us like that."

They dressed and when they were done, Carlisle took her hand and they waded into the jungle. The swell of bird calls and insects buzzing created a kind of song that led them through the trees. Esme cast her fingers out to feel along the plants, her eyes dancing with the height of the trees. There was no doubt in his mind that she would be climbing them soon.

As they turned down winding slopes made of jungle roots, Carlisle picked out the delicate hum of heart beats. There was the wild, erratic beat from the birds, too small though, and such a waist when Esme loved to watch them.

There was the cold, sluggish beat of what he guessed were reptiles nearby.

But in the mix, rich and lush, were the strong beat of predators. Most likely jungle cats of some sort.

Esme squeezed his hand suddenly. "Do you hear that?" she asked, eyes wide as she looked around.

"I hear many things, love. You'll have to be more specific." He laughed when she rolled her eyes at him, but wrapped both his arms around her waist from behind, pulling her close. "What do you hear?" he whispered.

This was a game they had been playing since her change. Truth be told, the vampire senses were keen. Almost too keen. And it was very often difficult for newborns to distinguish between sounds. The ability to separate voices and heartbeats and the sounds of the community came with time and exposure. Until then, it was easy for newborns to become overwhelmed and distracted.

Esme had learned to separate these things, like all other vampires, and judging by the look on her face, it wasn't just another heartbeat that had caught her attention.

"There," she said, letting her eyes close. "Past the birds."

He nodded against her shoulder.

"And the wind."

"And the surf?"

She laughed. "Yes, that too."

He continued to eliminate sounds and immediately knew what she had locked on to. Curiously, he looked around, deciding on a direction. "I believe it's this way," he said.

Esme skipped excitedly by his side and showed a great deal of restraint by not running off through the trees.

The closer they came, the more distinct the sound. Carlisle could clearly hear the heavy rush of water. The softer swirl as it made contact with the pool below. Even the drip-drop of errant beads escaping the rush and landing on the foliage surrounding the falls.

"A waterfall," Esme sighed as it finally came into view. "Oh, isn't it amazing?"

He watched her scan upwards, anticipating the grin when she turned to him.

"Shall we?" he said.

She was gone before he heard her answer. Esme was no longer faster than him, but somehow more agile, and she slithered up the slippery rocks with a distracting ease. At the top of the waterfall, she crouched, peering over the ledge, like she didn't quite trust her limbs.

He came up behind her. "It's a long way down."

"You first," she replied, standing and poking him in the side.

He caught her fingers and pulled her close, dancing them together at the top of the waterfall, fingers tangled in the ties of her bikini. "And what shall I do at the bottom?"

"Catch me?" she suggested, laughing as he shook his head in loving exasperation.

He pecked her gently on the nose. "Always."

— END —


End file.
